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7 



rHE EDITOR'S PREFACE. 



F&OM the justly acquired celebrity of Dr. Goldsmith, 
the origin jv' compiler of this Work, it seems highly neces- 
sary, as well through respect to the genius and erudition 
of that great author, as regard to public opinion, that I 
should state the reasons which induced me to attempt the 
revision and correction of ^ book, which has been, for a 
long series of years, so general a favourite in our schools. 

That Dr. Goldsmith, in, those productions which he in- 
tended as a monument of literary immortality, has display- 
ed abilities, which seldom have been equalled, or perhaps 
never have been surpassed, is generally admitted: but, that 
in many, which were written through necessity, and pub- 
lished without revisal, he has fallen below authors, whose 
•/ names are scarcely mentioned in the page of criticism, is 
a truth, which stands attested by*their perusal. 

My first intention was merely to render innocuous those 
passages, which, by their indecency, were sure to promote 
hesitation in the reader, and to cover with a blush the 
cheek of modesty. That such recitals should be tolerated 
by the instructors of our youth, is extraordinary: thus, by 
repetition, familiarizing the infant mind with obscenity, 
and associating indelicacy with instruction. 

To obviate this,, by even a partial rejection of historical 
ynlatter, has not, in the present edition, been attempted. 
Such a course, might be fairly censured by the friendly, 
or, with severity, be attacked by the fastidious. The 
remedy, I have sought, in the substitution of language, 
which, without partaking of vulgarity, may be found 
equally expressive of the meaning. 

Though, however, my original plan was confined to di- 
vesting the work of those passages which were the most 



IV PREFACE. 

glaringly offensive, yet, o%a more muiute examination, it 
appeared so objectionable, in many other respects, that I 
determined on the more laborious, as well as presumptu- 
ous task, of revising the entire. Presumptuous, indeed, 
it may appear, for inexperience to contend with prejudice. 
We read, with increasing pleasure, the fascinating produc- 
tions of our illustrious Author; whose transcendent talents 
have given so great a splendour to his classical effusions, 
that even his errors, the offspring of occasional distress, 
have lain concealed amidst the glare of reflected brightness. 

Tne Roman History, from which this little work is 
taken, was written, by Dr. Goldsmith, in two volumes 8vo. 
— In the year 1770, at the request of his bookseller, he 
made this " Abridgment for the use of Schools;'^ and, for 
that service, received only the miserable payment of Fifty 
Guineas! — a sum, scarcely equivalent to remunerate the 
manual labour of transcribing. By such means, is genius 
degraded, to suit the sordid calculations of avarice, and 
Literature made the agent of her own destruction. 

Candour, however, obliges me to state, that the larger 
work is chargeable with the same imperfections; and that 
the Abridgment is, in general, a literal extract. But thai 
continued tautology, so offensive to a well tuned ear, is 
not equally perceptible in the original; the narrative of 
which being more distended, the repetitions are, of course, 
less observable. 

Nearly fifty years have passed, since this History was 
written, which will, in a great measure, apologize for the 
introduction of those indelicacies, that it has been my ob- 
ject to remove. Half a century ago, Jlncient Literature 
was not much attended to by females^ even amongst the 
highest ranks; and this compilation was intended rather 
to assist the studies of the Classical scholar. Though 
coarseness of expression should always be avoided, it 
must, however, be conceded, that the same language, 
which might not be objectionable to an academical student, 
in his retirement, would be highly offen3ive when re;pid by 



PREFACE. V 

a female: and, when read aloud, and particularly before a 
teacher of the other sex, «he, who does not feel abashed 
at the recital of indelicacy, must be insensible indeed. 

The errors, a few of which I shall shortly notice, may 
be ranked under two heads — Radical and Typographical. 
That many of them belong to the former class, will ap- 
pear on examination; as they are so intimately interwoven 
with the subject, that it seems impossible, even by the 
exercise of the most indulgent extenuation, to attribute 
them to the press. However, those who can be satisfied 
with nothing less than demonstration, must refer, either 
to the original manuscript, or to the first edition, if the 
author was employed in its typographical correction* 
That I am warranted in my conjecture, will be made evi- 
dent, by a reference to the cotemporary Reviews; in 
which, the two volume edition is severely censured. The 
errors of the Press, are indeed easily distinguished, by a 
comparison of various copies, of which, I availed myself. 

I cannot, in this place, avoid remarking, that, in gene- 
ral, too little attention is paid to the accuracy of School- 
Books; though, of all literary works, they should be the 
most correct. 

I shall now proceed to examine a few passages in the 
History; allowing the public to determine, to which class 
of errors these seeming inconsistencies belong. In the 
third line, is the following: "jEneas, the son of Venus 
and Anchises, having escaped from the destruction of 
Troy." — That -^neas was the son of Anchises^ we have 
no reason to question; it having always been admitted as 
historical truth; but, that Venus wslS his mother, is true, 
only as far as the Mount Ida story is to be credited. No 
doubt, the Heathens believed the descent of Venus, and 
her amorous addresses to the handsome chief, as implicitly 
as they gave credit to the fable of Jupiter and Leda; 
but, in the present age, those fictions are wrested from 
tJie Historian, and assigned to the Poet. A History, 

which commences in fiction, may continue in falsehood^ 

A2 



VI PREFACE. 

and will end in uncertainty. The evidence of a man, 
once convicted of untruth, is never afterwards to be re 
lied on. 

" Having escaped from the destruction of Troy,^^^ 
To mention that a house, or part of any buildingy was 
saved from the destruction of a city, is perfectly consist- 
ent; just as we should say that a particular bale of mer- 
chandise was saved from the wreck of the brig Her cities; 
but, it would appear rather ludicrous, if one of our Balti- 
more Papers were to give us a paragraph in this style: 
'' Arrived, yesterday, at Gadsby^s Hotel, our gallant 
townsman. Captain Broadside, saved out of the wreck 
of the ship Milo,^^ — For the chronological error, as to the 
date of his arrival in Italy, we are indebted to the Phila- 
delphia and Baltimore printers; an edition having been 
furnished in each place, with the initials A. D. instead of 
A. M. 

" Amulius made use of his wealth, to supplant his 
brother, and soon found means to possess himself of the 
kingdom." By this mode of expression, the same person 
becomes both subject and object; and Amulius seizes on 
himself, instead of a kingdom. The impropriety would 
not be greater, should I say: '^ Octavius, having procured 
a horse, found leisure to ride himself to Washington.*' 
Similar expressions, however, to that, will be found 
throughout the whole. 

In the account of Rhea Sylvia's going to the grove, a 
sentence concludes thus: " whom, perhaps, to palliate her 
offence, she averred to be Mars, the god of war/' She 
was certainly not guilty of any crime; but, may justly 
be said to have suffered a Tnisfortune, Again: '^The 
mother was condemned to be buried alive; the usual pun- 
ishment for vestals who had violated their chastityP 
This burying alive should have been inflicted upon her 
bold admirer, Mars; not on the unoffendiiig Sylvia, 

Romulus and Remus are advised to take an omen, from 
the flight of birdsj and proceed accordingly: << they both 



PREFACE. Vll 

took their stations upon different hills. ^' Both might, if 
they pleased, stand on one hill; but both could not be on 
different hills at the same time. It might be more per- 
spicuous to say; ''each took his station upon a diiOTerent 
kilV 

Speaking of the city: "It was called Rome, after the 
name of its founder." No, it certainly was not called 
Rome; that we know, beyond a doubt; but we might 
with propriety say: It was called Roma, as being the 
oldest name of that city mentioned by the Latin historians. 

"The city was, at first, almost square; containing 
about a thousand houses.^' Its having contained^ one 
thousand, or even two thousand houses, shortly after 
its commencement, corresponds with our own method of 
doing things; but, that a city could, at first, contain a 
thousand houses, implies a sort of architectural legerde- 
main, of which, neither Romulus nor Remus, nor all the 
mountaineers at their command, were capable. We build 
very rapidly in Baltimore, but our building is nothing 
compared with that. 

" It was near a mile in compass, and commanded a small 
territory round it, of about eight miles over. However, 
small as it appears, it was, notwithstanding, worse inhab- 
ited." Why, I would ask, is the comparative of the word 
bad, used, in describing the relative proportions of the 
size of a city, and the number of its inhabitants? 

"The senate, which was to act as counsellors to the 
King, was composed, &c." Senate, being a noun of mul- 
titude, may be taken either as singular or plural; but, 
whatever number the writer begins with, must be observed 
throughout the sentence. In this place, it is taken in the 
singular; being the antecedent to which, the nominative 
to the verb was, in the singular. But, by what rule of 
modern syntax, would counsellors in the plural stand in 
apposition with senate in the singular, in this passage? 
or how can we reconcile the transformation that occurs in 
the use of the relative? at first, it refers to a legislative 



viii PREFACE. 

assembly in the abstract; not the persons of whom that 
assembly was composed^ for, if so, it should be the senate 
who; as which cannot, with grammatical accuracy, be ap- 
plied to persons: — in its next agency, however, it becomes 
a personal relative. 

" The plebeians, who composed the third part of the 
legislature,^' &c. Third part gives the idea rather of an 
arithmetical third, or third as to quantity; conveying 
something quite different from the author's intention ; 
which was au ordinal third: as, the king, first; the sen- 
ate, second; the plebeians, third. I have written it, third 
branch of the legislature. 

'^ After his endeavours, by laws, to regulate his subjects, 
he next gave orders to ascertain their numbers. The whole 
amounted but to three thousand foot, and as many hun- 
dred horsemen." How many hundred horsemen, then, 
were there? I defy all the colleges in the universe to an- 
swer the question. They might indeed guess at the num- 
ber; or, by the assistance of a little reasoning, say, that 
there were about three hundred horsemen; which is just 
what the Latin authorities make them. 

^^ By these wise regulations, each day added strength 
to the new city: multitudes flocked in from all the adja-t 
cent towns, and it only seemed to want women to ascer^ 
tain its duration,^^ A person might, at a slight view, 
imagine, that the women, who were wanted, were, what 
the ancients called soothsayers; and, what we now vul- 
garly call fortune-tellers; in order to foretel how long 
the city would continue. But, this, as appears in the 
sequel, is not the meaning, nor any thing near the mean- 
ing: the women were required to assist in the increasing 
of the population; in fact, women were wanted to con-- 
firm its growiiig prosperity. 

Having now but partially examined five pages, and 
finding that I am likely to run over rather too mubh paper, 
by these criticisms, I shall conclude them, by a few gene- 
ral remarks. Throughout the whole work, there is a 



PREFACE. ix 

violation of language, and a misapplication of terms; which, 
though not so objectionable, when they were first written, 
are insufierable at the present day: for instance, adjectives 
used as adverbs: the words between^ both^ and either^ 
applied in reference to three persons or things. '^ The 
triumviri agreed to divide the empire between them ;'' 
^'he 6/mnnulled those laws,'' ^^ he gSive free liberty;'' 
" he followed them into their inaccessible mountains," 
and similar expressions, very frequently appear. I have 
endeavoured to restore the proper names, to that degree 
of accuracy, with which, I have no doubt, they were 
originally given ; but, from which, by successive copying, 
they have been made, materially, to deviate; and, in most 
instances, I have allowed them their classical form, when 
they first occur; continuing, afterwards, the familiar^ in 
which way, many names, in the original copy are exclu- 
sively written. Occasional translations, also, and explana- 
tory notes, have been added, which may prove useful to 
the inquisitive reader, who has not had the advantage of 
a classical education; the punctuation, likewise, has re- 
ceived a considerable share of attention ; and, by th? 
transposition of several clauses, I have endeavoured to give 
the sentences that strength, which the author himself, had 
he had more leisure, would have much better performed. 
Surprising as it may appear, I have heard many glaring 
mfringements of grammatical rules defended, upon the 
principle, that the proper test of Historical composition is 
the Understanding. If this position were admitted, our 
Colleges are no longer required, but as the insignia of lite- 
rary ostentation : the herculean labours of a Johnston, or 
the critical researches of a Blair, have been made in vain. 
Is it not possible, I would ask, so to arrange a discourse, 
that every rule in grammar shall be violated; and yet this 
miserable jargon may be as intelligible as the finished de- 
clamations of Demosthenes? 
Baltimore J May 1, 1818. 



ADVERTISEMENT. 



The original Reviser of this History, sensible 
that the First Edition would admit of still further 
improvement, has reviewed it, with much care ; 
and confidently hopes, that the amendments 
made in the second edition, will render the 
work still more deserving of the extensive intro- 
duction, already procured for it, by the former 
corrections. 



Philadelphitty JVovember, 1826. 



1867 



*^* Accompanying this edition^ there is a 
small Book of Historical Questions^ for the use 
of schools; also^ for the convenience of Teachers^ 
a Key^ containing the Answers. ^ ^'^ 



/J 






THE HISTORY 

OF THE 

COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 



CHAPTER I, 

Origin of the JRomans. 

The Romans, that they migl^onceal the meanness of their 
real arfya^^i^'T'Were particularly desirous of being thought de- 
scended fporfn'the gods.^SEneas, (said by the poets to have 
been th^ son of Yenus and Anchises,) having escaped from 
Troy, at the time of the destruction of that city, after matiy 
. -mj adventures and dangers, arrived in Italy ; where'he was 
99Q4* k^i^dty received by Latinus, the king of the Latin^, who 
* gave him his daughter Lavinia in marriage. Turnus, 
king of the Rutuli, was the first who opposed iEneas, he him- 
self having long made pretensions to Lavinia. A war ensued; 
im which the Trojan hero was victorious, and Turnlis siain^ 
In consequence of this, ZEneas built a city, which he called^ 
Lavinium, in honour of his wife; but, some time afterwards, 
having engaged in another war, against Mezenlius, one of the 
petty kings <>f the country, he was vanquished, and died in 
battle, after a reign of four years. 

Numitor, (the fifteenth king in a direct linefrorniEneas,) who 
took possession of^the kingdom in consequence of his father's 
vi^ill, had a brother named Amulius ; to whom were lefl the trea- 
sures which had been brought from Troy. But, as riches too 
generally prevail against right, Amulius mad^. use of his wealth 
to supplant his brother, and soon found mekns to take pos- 
session of the kingdom; adding to the crinie of usurpation, 
that also of murder. The sons of Numitor first fell a sacrifice 
to his suspicions ; and, to remove all apprehensions of his being 
at any time disturbed in his ill acquired power, he caused Rhea 
Sylvia, his brother's only daughter, to become a vestal virgin; 
which office obliging her to observe perpetual chastity, he ap- 
prehended little danger fron^her poster!^. > 

His precautions, howeverv^^re all frustrated. Rhea Sylvia, ^ 
when^^ing for.>vater to a neighbouring- grove, waa^met by a 



12 HISTORY OF HOME. 

man, whom, perhaps to palliate her misfortune, she averred 
was Mars, the god of war. 

Two boys were the fruits of this violent intercourse; who 
were no sooner born, than devoted by the usurper to destruc- 
tion. The mother was condemned to be buried alive, the usual 
punishment for vestals who had suffered a violation of their 
chastity ; and the twins were ordered to be thrown into the 
river Tyber. It happened, at the time this rigorous sentence 
was executed, that the river had more than usually overflowed 
its banks ; so that the water, into which the children were cast, 
being at a distance from the main current, was too shallow to 
drown them. In this situation, therefore, they continued with- 
out injury ; and, that nothing relative to their preservation might 
be free from wonder, we are told that they were for some time 
suckled by a wolf; and that Faustjilus, the king!s^ herdsman, 
finding them thus exposed, carried tbem ta his wife, Acca 
Laurentia, who brought thern up as the children of her husband. 

Romulus and Remus, the twins, thus strangely preserved, 
seemed early to discover abilities and desires above the mean- 
ness of their supposed origin. The shepherd's life began to 
displease them; and, from tending flocks, or hunting wild 
beasts, they soon turned their strength against the robbers who 
infested the country; \/hom they often stripped of their plunder, 
to share it with their fellow shepherds. In one of these ex- 
cursions, Remus was taken prisoner, by Numitor's herdsmen, 
who brought him 1/efore Amulius, and accused him of being a 
robber. Romulus, however, being informed, by Faustulus, of 
his real birth, assembled a number of his fellow shepherds, and 
beset the usurper on all sides ; who, during his amazement and 
distraction, was taken and slain; and Numitor, after having 
been deposed forty-two years, recognized his grandsons, and 
was restored to the throne. 

Numitor being now in quiet possession of the kingdom, his 
grandsons resolved to build a city, on those hillsAvhere they had 
formerly tended flocks. Many of the neighbouring shepherds, 
and such also as were fond of change, hastened to the site of 
the intended city, and prepared to raise it. 

In order to proceed in this undertaking with all pfksible 
solemnity, the two brothers were advised by the king to take 
an omen, from the flight of birds ; and it was agreed that he, 
whose omen would be the most favourable, should, in all re- 
spects, direct the other. In compliance with this advice, each 
took his station upon a diflerent hill. To Remus, appeared 
sa vultur^; to Romulus, twice that number; so th^'each 



HISTORY OF ROME. 13 

fiiought himself victorious ; the one having had the first omen, 
the other the most complete. This produced a contest, which 
proved fatal to Remus ; and historians relate that he was killed 
by his brother, who, being provoked at his leaping contem[>- 
tuously over the city wall, struck him dead upon the spot. 

Romulus, now eighteen years of age, and sole commander 
A TVr persevered in the building of a city, which was, at f 
09 K9* future day, to give laws to the world. It was called 
A Roma, (now Rome, by the English,) after the name of 
^j.j^ 'its founder; and |)uilt upon the Palatine Hill, where 
he had taken his. successful omen. The city was at 
first almost square, containing, shortly after its commence- 
ment, about a thousand houses. It was nearly a mile in com- 
pass, and commanded a small territory around it, of about 
twenty-five miles in circuit. However, small as it appears, it 
was but thinly inhabited ; and the first method taken to increase 
its numbers, was the opening of a sanctuary for all malefactors, 
slaves, and such as were desirous of novelty; who came in 
great multitudes, and produced the effect which the new legis- 
lator had intended. 



CHAPTER II. 

From the Building of Rome, to the Death of Romulus, 

Scarcely was the city raised above its foundation, when its 
rude inhabitants began to form a Constitution. Romulus, by 
an act of great generosity, left them at liberty in the choice of 
their king; and they, through gratitude, concurred in the election 
of their founder ; who was accordingly acknowledged as chief 
of their religion, sovereign magistrate of Rome, and general 
of the army. Besides a guard to attend his person, it was de- 
termined that he should always be preceded, wherever lie went^ 
by another, of twelve men, armed with axes, tied up in a bundle 
of rods ; who were to execute the laws, and impress his new 
subjects with a high idea of his authority. 

The Senate, (intended to be the King's Council,) was com- 
posed of one hundred of the principal citizens — men, whose 
age, wisdom, or valour, gave them a natural authority ovei 
their fellow subjects. The king named the first senator; and 
appointed him to act as governor of the city, during his own 
absence in war. 

The Plebeians, who composed the third branch of the legist 
lature, as/^jumed the power of authorising those laws which were 

B 



l4 HISTORY OF ROME. 

introduced by the king or the senate : and all things relative 
to peace or war ; to the election of magistrates ; and even to 
the choosing of a king ; were confirmed by the votes of their 
assembly. 

The first care of the newly created monarch, was to attend 
to the interest of religion ; but the precise forms of that which 
they embraced, are now unknown. The principal religion of 
that age consisted in a firm reliance on the soothsayers, who 
pretended, from observations on the flight of birds, and the 
entrails of beasts, to direct the present, and dive into the future. 
Romulus, by an express law, commanded that no election 
should be made, no enterprise undertaken, without first con- 
sulting them. 

Wives were forbidden, upon any pretext whatever, to sepa- 
rate from their husbands; whilst, on the contrary, husbands 
were empowered to repudiate their wives, and, in some cases, 
even to put them to death. His laws with respect to children 
and their parents, were yet more severe ; the father had entii*e 
power, over both the fortune and the life of his ofi*spring ; and 
could sell or imprison them, at any period, without regard either 
to their age, or their condition. 

His attention was now directed to ascertain the number of 
his subjects ; who were found to amount only to three-thou- 
sand foot, and about three-hundred horsemen, capable of bear- 
ing arms. These were divided equally into three tribes; and 
to each he assigned a different part of the city. Each of those 
tribes was subdivided into ten curiae, or companies, consisting 
of one-hundred men, having a centurion to command it; a priest 
called curio to perform the sacrifices ; and two of the principal 
inhabitants, under the title of duumviri^ to distribute justice. 
These wise regulations contributed daily to increase the strength 
of the new city; multitudes flocked in from all the adjacent 
towns, and w^omen only were wanted to confirm its growing 
prosperity. By the advice of the senate, Romulus sent depu- . 
ties to the neighbouring Sabines, to entreat their alliance; 
which would be the means of their obtaining the strictest con- 
federacy with the Romans. The Sabines, who were then con- 
sidered as the most warhke people of Italy, rejected the pn>- 
posal with disdain. Romulus then proclaimed, throughout all 
the neighbouring villages, a feast, in honour of Neptune ; for 
which, he made the most magnificent preparations. These 
entertamments were generally preceded by sacrifices, and ended 
in the exhibition of wrestlers, gladiators, and chariot races. The 
Sabines, as he expected, were amongst the foremost of thf 



HISTORY OF ROME. 16 

spectators ; bringing with them their wives and daughters, to 
share in the pleasures of the day. But, whilst the strangers 
were most intent upon the spectacle, a number of Roman youths 
rushed in among them, with drawn swords; seized the youngest 
and most beautiful women, and carried them off by violence. 
In vain, the parents protested against this breach of hospitality 
— in vain, the young women themselves at first opposed the 
attempts of those, into whose power they had fallen; — by per- 
severance and caresses, the betrayers, from being objects of 
aversion, soon became the partners of their dearest affections. 

A sanguinary war ensued. The cities of Cenina, Antemna, 
and Crustum.inum, were the first that resolved to revenge the 
common cause, which the Sabines were too dilatory in espous- 
ing. But these, by making separate inroads, were the more 
easily overthrown by Romulus ; who, however, made the most 
merciful, as well ^s politic use, of his vicloiies: instead of 
putting them to the sword, or ordering the dei^truction of their 
towns, he placed in them Roman colonies, to form a frontier 
for the repression of more distant invasions. 

Tatius, king of Cures, a Sabine city, was the last, although 
the most formidable, who undertook to revenge the disgrace 
v/hich his country had suffered. He entered the Roman ter- 
ritories, at the head of twenty-five thousand men ; and, to the 
advantage he possessed, in having a superiority of numbers, 
he added that of stratagem. Tarpeia, daughter of him who 
commanded at the Capitoline Hill, happened to fall into his 
hands, as she went without the. city walls for water; upon 
whom, he prevailed, by means of large promises, to open one 
of the gates to his army. The reward for which she engaged, 
was what the soldiers wore upon their arms ; by which, she 
meant their bracelets. They, however, either mistaking her 
meaning, or intending to punish her perfidy, threw their buck 
lers upon her, as they entered, and crushed her to death. The 
Sabines being thus possessed of the Capitoline Hill, a general 
engagement shortly afterwards took place ; which was renewed 
for several days, witii almost equ*al success, arid lieither party 
would consent to a submission. The last battle that they 
fought, was in the valley which divides the Capitoline and 
Quirinal hills. When the engagement had become general, 
and the slaughter prodigious, the attention of the combatants 
was suddenly turned from the scene of horror before them. — 
The Sabine women, who had been carried off by the Romans, 
regardless of danger, rush, with dishevelled hair, and freed from 
their ornaments, between the parties, and with loud outcries, 



16 HISTORY OF ROME. 

implore their husbands- and their children to desist. — TIi« 
combatants, as if by mutual impulse, let fall their weapons ; — 
an accommodation ensues ; by which, it is agreed, that Romu- 
lus and Tatius should reign conjointly in Rome, with equal 
power and prerogative ; that one-hundred Sabines should be 
admitted into the senate ; that the city should still retain its name, 
but that the citizens should be called Quirites, after Cures the 
principal town of the Sabines ; and that the two nations being 
thus united, those of the latter who might desire it, should be 
admitted to live in Rome, and enjoy all the privileges of a Ro- 
man citizen. 

In about five years from this time, Tatius was killed by the 
Lavinians, for having protected some of his servants, who had 
plundered them and murdered their ambassadors. 

The good fortune of the king produced in him an equal de- 
gree of pride. From being contented with swaying the sceptre 
of a limited monarchy, he now aimed at the acquisition of ab- 
solute power ; and endeavoured to subvert those very laws, to 
which he had himself formerly professed implicit obedience. 
The senate, in particular, were displeased with his cojiduct; aa 
they found themselves used only as instruments to justify the 
rigour of his commands. We are not precisely informed of 
the means which they employed to get rid of the tyrant: som« 
say that he was torn in pieces in the senate-house, — others, 
that he disappeared when reviewing his army : but, from the 
secrecy of the fact, and the concealment of the body, they tool? 
occasion to persuade the multitude that he was taken up into 
heaven. Thus, him whom they could not suffer as a king, 
they were contented to worship as a god. 

Romulus reigned thirty-seven years; and, after his death 
a temple was dedicated to him, under the name of Quirinus. 



CHAPTER III. 

From the death of Romulus, to the death of JVtima Pcmpilius 
the second king of Rome, 

TT r * ^^ ^^® death of Romulus, the people were greatly 

OQ ' divided in the choice of a successor. The Sabines 

wished to have a king chosen from their body; but 

the Romans could not be prevailed on to advance a stranger to 

tiie throne. In this perplexity, the senators undertook to sup- 

* U. C. are the initials of two latui words^ signifying from the building of 
the cUy 



HISTORY OF ROME. 17 

ply the place of a king, by taking the government, each of 
them in succession, for five days; and during that lime enjoy- 
ing all the honours, and all the privileges of royalty. This 
new form continued for a year; but the Plebeians, wl.o saw that 
this method of transferring power, was only multiplying their 
masters, insisted on a change. The senate being thus com- 
pelled to make an election, nominated Numa Pompilius, a 
Sabine; who was received by the people with univerjal appro- 
bation. 

Numa, now in his fortieth year, had long been eminent for 
his piety and justice, moderation and exemplary life. He was 
skilled in all the learning and philosophy of his country; and, 
contented with a private fortune, he enjoyed at Cures the 
sweets of domestic retirement, unambitious of higher honours. 
It was not, therefore, without reluctance that he accepted the 
dignity; and his compliance produced so much joy, that the 
people seemed not so much to receive a king, as a. kingdom. 

No monarch could have been more proper for them,^ than 
Numa. At a conjuncture when tlie kingdom was composed 
of various petty stales, but lately subdued, and not sufficiently 
united, they wanted a master, who could, by his laws and pre- 
cepts, soften their fierce dispositions, and by his example, pro- 
mote a respect for religion, and the several moral virtues. 

Numa's whole time was therefore spent in inspiring his sub- 
jects with a love of piety, and a veneration for the gods. He 
built many new temples ; instituted sacred offices and feasts ; 
and the sanctity of his life gave him credit enough to persuade 
his people, that he had a particular correspondence with the 
goddess Egeria. By her advice, he built the temple of Janus, 
which was to be shut in time of peace, and open in war; he 
also ordained vestal virgins, who were four in number, and had 
very great privileges allowed them. 

For the encouragement of agriculture, he divided, amongst 
the poorer part of the people, the lands which Romulus had 
gained in war; he also regulated the kalendar, and abolished 
the distinction between Romans and Sabines, by dividing the 
citizens according to their several trades, and compelling all 
the people of each trade to live together. Thus, having leigned 
forty-three years, in profound peace, and arrived at the age of 
eighty, he died; having ordered his body to be buried in a stone 
coffin, contrary to the custom of the times ; and his books of 
ceremonies, consisting of twelve in Latin, and as many in 
Greek, to be placed, in another, by his side. 

B 2 



18 HISTORY OF ROME. 



CHAPTER IV. 

From the death of JVuma, to the death of Tullus Hostilius, tlu 
third King of Rome. 



-tr r^ On the death of Numa, the administration once mo] 
* " devolved upon the senate ; in wl\om it continued until 
the people elected Tullus Hostilius for their king: 
which choice had the concurrence of the other branch of the 
government. This monarch was grandson of a noble Roman, 
who had formerly signalized himself against the Sabines, and 
in nothing resembled his predecessor ; being entirely devoted 
to war, and fonder of enterprise than even the founder of the 
empire had been; so that he anxiously sought a pretext for 
leading his forces into the field. 

The Albans were the first who gave him an opportunity of 
indulging, his favourite inclination. The forces of these two 
states met about fiwe miles from Rome, prepared to decide the 
fate of their respective kingdoms ; for almost every battle in 
those days was decisive. The two armies were for some time 
drawn out in array, waiting the signal for battle ; both anxious 
to shorten that dreadful period of suspense, when an unexpected 
proposal from the Alban general prevented the onset. Stepping 
in between the armies, he offered the Romans a choice of 
deciding the dispute by single combat; adding that that side, 
whose champion was overcome, should .submit to the other. 
Such a proposal suited the impetuous temper of the Roman 
king, and was eagerly embraced by his subjects; each of 
whom hoped that he himself might be chosen to decide the 
cause of his country. There were at this time, in each army, 
three brothers, of one birth: those of the Romans were called 
Horatii; those of the Albans, Curiatii; all six remarkable foi 
their courage, strength, and activity; and to them it was re- 
solved to commit the fate of the two parties. — At length, the 
champions met in combat, and each, totally regardless of his 
own safety, only seeks the destruction of his opponent. Tlic 
spectators, in horrid silence, tremble at every blow, and 
wish to share the danger: — now, fortune seems to decide tlie 
glory of the field; — victory, which had hitherto been doubtful, 
appears to declare against the Romans ; two of their ch amnions 
lie dead upon the plain, and the three Curiatii, who are wounded, 
elowly endeavour to pursue the survivor, who seems, by flight, 
Mo^beg for mercy. Soon, however, they perceive that his flight 
is only feigned, that he may separate his antagonists, whom 



•re™ 



HISTORY OF ROME. I^ 

united, he was unable to oppose; for, immediately turning upon 
him who follows the most closely behind, he lays him dead !— ^t 
The second brother who comes on to assist, shares the same 
fate; and now there remains but one of the Curiatii to conquer; 
who, fatigued, and disabled by his wounds, slowly .approaches, 
to offer r?n easy victory ; and is despatched, almost unresisting. 
Then the conqueror, exclaiming, offers him as a victim to the 
superiority of the Romans; to whom, the Alban army now 
yield obedience. 

But none of the virtues of that age were without alloy : — the 
very hand, which, in the m^ rning, had been exerted to save his 
country, was, before night, imbrued in the blood of his sister! 
Returning triumphant from the field, it raised his indignation 
to behold her bathed in tears, and lamenting the loss of her 
lover; one of the Curiatii, to whom she was betrothed. This 
provoked him beyond the power of sufferance, so that he slew 
her in the heat of passion : an action which greatly displeased 
the senate, and drew on him the condemnation of the magis- 
trates : but he was pardoned by making his appeal ta the people. 

Hostilius died after a reign of thirty-two years. His death 
was, by some, attributed to lightning; but by others, with 
greater probability, to treason. 



CHAPTER T. 

From the death of Tullus Hostilius, to the death of Ancus 
•Martins, the fourth King of Rome^ 

jj p An interregnum now ensiled, which terminated in the 
* Pj * election of Ancus Martins, the grandson of Numa; who 
was chosen king by the people, and approved of by the 
senate. As this monarch was a lineal descendant of Numa, 
so he, seemed to make him the great object of his imitation. 
He instituted the sacred ceremonies which were to precede a 
declaration of war ; he took every occasion of recommending 
to his subjects a return to the pursuits of agriculture, and a 
cessation from the less useful stratagems of war. 

These institutions and precepts were considered by the 
neighbouring powers, as marks rather of cowardice, than wis- 
dom. The Latins therefore began to make incursions into hi» 
territories ; but their success was not superior to their justice^ 
They were conquered by Ancus ; who destroyed their cities, 
removed their inhabitants to Rome, and increased his own ter 
ritories by the addition of a pai t of theirs. He quelled a^so an 



20 HISTORY OI' ROME. 

insirrection of the Veientes, the Fidenates, and the Volsci: 
and over the Sabmes he obtained a second triumph. But his 
victories over the enemy were of far less importance, than his 
excisions at home, in raising temples, fortifying the city, making 
a prison foi;^ malefactors^ and forming, at the mouth of th 
Tyber, a sea port, called Ostia; by which, he secured to his 
subjects the trade of that river, and of the adjacent^ saitpits. 
Having thus enriclied his subjects, and beautified the city, he 
died after a reign of twenty-four years. 



L3 

y 



CHAPTER VI. 

From the death of Ancus JMartius, to the death of Tarquinius 
Prisciis^ the fifth King of Rome. 

yj ^ Lucius Tarquinius Prisons, whose original name was 
,' * Lucumon, -was appointed guardian to the sons of the 
late king. He took the surname of Tarquinius from, 
the city of Tarquinii, where he had last resided. His father^ 
was a merchant of Corinth, who had acquired considerable 
wealth by trade, and had settled in Italy, in consequence of 
the unpleasant state of affairs at home. His son Lucumon, 
who inherited his fortune, married a woman of family in Tar- 
quinii; and as his birth, profession, and country, were held in 
contempt, by the nobles of that place, he came, by the persuasion 
of his wife, to settle at Rome, where merit only gave distinc- 
tion. It is said, by the historians, that, on his way thither, as 
he approached the city gate, an eagle, stooping from above, 
took off his hat, and flying around his chariot for some time 
with much noise, replaced it on his head. This, his wife 
Tanaquil, who, it seems, was skilled in augury, interpreted as 
a presage that he shonhl wear a croion: and it was perhaps this 
which first fired his ambition to pursue it. 

Ancus being dead, and the government as usual devolving 
upon the senate, Tarquin used all his power and arts to set 
aside the children of the late king, and to have himself chosen 
in their place. Accordingly, on the day appointed for election, 
he contrived to have them removed from the city; and, in a 
set speech to the people, in which he urged his friendship for 
them, the fortune he had spent amongst them, and his know- 
ledge of their government, he offered himself for their king. 
There being nothing in this harangue that could be contested, 
it had the desired effect; and the people unanimously elected 
him. 



HISTORY Ot^ ROME 21 

A kingdom, thus gained by intrigue, was, notwithstanding, 
governed with equity. In the beginning of his reign, in order 
to recompense his friends, he added one-hundred members to 
the senate ; which increased their number to thi'ee hundred. 

But his pacific endeavours, were soon interrupted by the in- 
roads of his restless neighbours, particularly the Latins ; whom 
however he defeated, and forced to beg a peace. He then 
turned his arms against the Sabines, who had again risen, and 
passed the Tyber; but Tarquin, (as he is named in English 
works,) attacking them vigorously, routed their army: and 
many who escaped the sword, were drowned in attempting to 
recross the river ; whilst their bodies and armour floating down 
to Rome, conveyed the proofs of victory, even before the mes- 
sengers who were despatched with the account, could arrive. 
These conquests were followed by several advantages over 
the Latins ; from whom, he took many towns, though without 
gaining any decisive victory. 

Tarquin, having thus forced his enemies into submission, 
was resolved not to let the people be corrupted by indolence, 
but undertook and perfected several public works, for the con- 
venience and embellishment of the city. 

Duriag his reign, the augurs advanced considerably in repu- 
tation, and he found it his interest to promote the superstition 
of the people, as it served also to increase their obedience. 

Tanaquil, his wife, was a great pretender to this art, in 
which however she was excelled by Accius Na^vius, the most 
celebrated adept that was ever known in Rome. Tarquin, 
being resolved to try the augur's skill, demanded, whether that, 
which he was then considering, could be effected. Neevius, 
having examined his auguries, boldly affirmed that it might : 
*' Why then," cries the king, with an insulting smile, ^* I had 
thoughts of cutting this whetstone with a razor!" " Cut boldly" 
replied the augur ; and the king cut it ^through accordingly. 
Thenceforward, nothing was undertaken in Rome, without 
obtaining the advice and approbation of the augurs. 

Tarquin was not contented with a kingdom, without also the 
ensigns of royalty. In imitation of the Lydian monarchs, he 
assumed a crown of gold, an ivory throne, a sceptre surmount- 
ed by an eagle, and robes of purple. * It was perhaps the 
splendour of these royalties that first raised the envy of the 
late king's sons, who had for thirty-seven years quietly sub- 
mitted to his government. His design also of adopting for his 
successor, Servius Tullius, his son-in-law, might have con- 
tributed to inflame their resentment. But whatever was *ho 



22 HISTORY OF ROME. 

cause of their tardy vengeance, they now resolved to destroy 
him, and at length found means to effect their purpose, by 
hiring two ruffians, who, demanding to speak with the king 
under pretence of seeking justice, struck him dead in iiis palace, 
with the blow of an axe. The lictors, however, that attended 
the king's person, seized the murderers, v/ho were attempting 
to escape. They were put to death ; but the sons of Ancus, 
who were the instigators, found safety by flight. 

Thus fell Lucius Tarquinius, ^si^irnamed Priscus, to dis- 
tinguish him from one of his successors of the same name,) 
aged fifty-six years, of which he had reigned thirty-eight. 



CHAPTER YIL 

From the death of Tarquinius Priscus, to the death of Servius 
Tullius, the sixth King of Rome, 

The report of the murder of Tarquin filled all his subjects 
l^j p with complaint and indignation; and the citizens ran 
- ' * from every quarter to the palace, to ascertain the truth 
of the account, or to take vengeance on the assassins. 
In this tumult, Tanaquil, widow of the late kmg, kn< wing the 
danger she must incur, in case the conspirators should succeed 
to the crown; and desirous of advancing her son-in-law to the 
throne; artfully concealed her sorrow, and assured the people, 
from a window of the palace, that the king was not killed, but 
stunned by the blow, that he would shortly recover, and that 
in the mean time he had deputed his power to Servius Tullius, 
his son-in-law. Servius, accordingly, as it had been previously 
arranged, issued from the palace, adorned with the ensigns of 
royalty, and preceded by his lictors, went to despatch some af- 
fairs that related to tlie public safety; still pretending that he 
took all his instructions from the king. This scene of dissimu- 
lation continued until he had confirmed his party amongst the 
nobles ; and then, the death of Tarquin being publicly ascer- 
tained, Servius was appointed king, solely by the election of 
the senate, without having attempted to procure the suffrages 
of the people. 

Servius was the son of a bond-woman, who had been taken 
at the sacking of a town belonging to the Latins, and was bom 
whilst his mother was a slave. When yet an infant in his cradle, 
a lambent flame is said to have played around his head ; which 
Tanaquil converted into an omen of his future greatness. 

The principal object during his reign was to increase thj^ 




HISTORY OF ROME. // /,A^f^^ 

power of the senate, by depressing that of the people. The 
populace, who were unable to see into his designs, conferred 
upon him an unlimited power in the arrangement of the taxes, 
and accordingly, as he insisted that they should pay them by 
centuries, he commanded that they should give their votes also 
by centuries.. In former deliberations, each citizen gave his 
suffrage singly, and the numbers of the poor always prevailed 
against the power of the rich; but, by the regulations of Ser- 
vius, the senate consisted of a greater number of centuries than 
all the other classes combined ; and thus entirely outweighed 
them, in every contention. 

In order to ascertain the increase or diminution of his sub- 
jects and their estates, he instituted another regulation, which 
he called a lustrum. By this, all the citizens were to assemble 
once every five years, completely armed, and in their respec- 
tive classes, in the Campus Martins; and there give an exact 
account of their families and fortunes. 

Having thus enjoyed a long reign, occupied in settling the 
domestic policy of the state, and also not inattentive to foreign 
concerns, he conceived reasonable hopes of concluding it in 
tranquillity and eas^ He had even thoughts of laying down 
his power; and, after having formed the kingdom into a re- 
public, of returning into obscurity. But so generous a design 
was frustrated, before he could put it in execution. 

In the beginning of his reign, to secure the throne by every 
precaution, he had married his two daughters to the two grand- 
sons of Tarquin ; and, being aware that the women, as well as 
their intended husbands, were of entirely opposite dispositions, 
he resolved to unite her that was ungovernable and proud, with 
him who was remarkable for a contrary character: by this, he 
supposed that they would correct each other's failings, and that 
the mixture would produce concord. The event however 
proved otherwise. Lucius, his haughty son-in-law, soon grew 
displeased with the meekness of his partner, and placed his 
whole affections upon Tullia, his brother's wife; who answer- 
ed his passion with sympathetic ardour As their desires wore 
ungovernable, they resolved to break through every restramt 
that opposed their union; both undertook and effected the 
murder of their consorts, and were shortly afterwards intermar- 
ried. One crime is often productive of another: from the de- 
struction of their consorts, they proceeded to conspiring that of 
the king. They began by raising factions against him ; alleging 
'ais illegal title to the. crown, which Lucius claimed as his own, 



24 HISTORY OF ROME. 

as heir to Tarquin. At length, when he found the senate ripe 
for seconding his views, he entered the senate-house, adorned 
with all the insignia of royalty ; and, placing himself upon the 
throne, began to harangue them on the obscurity of the king's 
birth, and the injustice of his title. Whilst he was yet speak- 
ing, Servius entered, attended by a few followers ; and, seeing 
his throne thus rudely invaded, attempted to push the usurper 
from his seat : but Lucius, being in the vigour of youth, threw 
the old man down the steps which led to the throne ; and some 
of his adherents, who had been previously instructed, followed 
the king, as he was feebly attempting to reach the palace, and 
despatched him ; throwing his mangled and bleeding body, as a 
public spectacle, into the street. In the mean time, TuUia, burn- 
ing with impatience for the event, was informed of what her 
husband had done, and resolving to be amongst the first who 
should salute him as monarch, ordered her chariot to the senate- 
house : but, as the charioteer approached the place where the 
body of the old king, her father, lay, exposed and bloody, the 
man, amazed at the inhuman spectacle, and not wishing to 
trample upon it with his horses, offered to turn another way. 
This served only to increase the fiercene^ of her temper : shfiM^ 
threw the footstool at his head, and ordered him to drive o4tr 
the dead body, without hesitation. 

Thus died, Servius Tullius ; a prince of eminent justice and 
moderation ; after a useful and prosperous reign of forty-four 
y^ears. 



CHAPTER Vm. 

From the death of Servius Tullius, to the banishment of Ta}^ 
quinius Superbus, the seventh and last King of Rome, 

yy p Lucius Tarquinius afterwards called Superbus, 
9^0 * (^'^i^h) i" Latin, signifies proud,) having placed him- 
self upon the throne, as related in the preceding chap- 
ter, was resolved to support his dignity by the same violence 
by which it had been acquired. Regardless of the approbation 
either of the senate or the people, he seemed to claim the crown 
by hereditary right ; and refused the late king's body a burial, 
under the pretence of his having been a usurper. All virtuous 
people, however, looked upon his accession with detestation 
and horror; and this last act of inefficient barbarity, served 
only to confirm their hatred. Conscious of this, he order d 



HISTORY OF ROME. 25 

all those whom he suspected to have been attached to Servius, 
to be put to death ; and, fearing the natural consequences of 
his tyranny, he increased the guard around his person. 

His chief policy seems to have consisted in keeping the 
people always employed, either in wars or in public works; 
by which means, he diverted their attention from his illegal 
method of obtaining the crown. 

He first marched against the Sabines, who had refused to 
pay him obedience, and soon reduced them to submission. He 
next began a war with the Volsci, which continued for many 
ages. The city of the Gabii made a determined resistance; 
and, having ineffectually attempted to reduce it by a siege, he 
was obliged to resort to stratagem, contrary to the usual prac- 
tice of the Romans. He caused his son Sextus to counterfeit 
desertion, under pretence of barbarous usage, and to seek refuge 
amongst the inhabitants of the place. There, by artful com- 
plaints, and studied lamentations, he so engaged the people in 
his interest, as to be chosen their governor; and soon after, 
general of their army. He appeared at first, successful in 
every engagement, and, thus finding himself possessed of the 
confidence of the state, he sent a trusty messenger to his farther, 
for instructions. Tarquin made no other answer, than by 
taking the man into the garden, where he cut down before him 
the tallest poppies. Sextus readily understood this reply ; and 
found means to destroy or remove, one by one, the principal 
men of the city ; still taking care to confiscate their effects, and 
divide them amongst the people. The charms of these divi- 
dends kept the giddy populace blind to their own ruin, until 
they found themselves, at last, without counsellors or head; 
and they eventually fell under the power of Tarquin, without 
even striking a blow. After this, he made a league with the 
JEqui, and renewed that with the Etrurians. 

But whilst he was engaged in war abroad^ he took care that 
the people should not remain in idleness at home. He under- 
took to build the capitol, the foundation of which had been laid 
in a former reign ; and a singular occurrence contributed to 
hasten the execution of his design. A woman, in a strange 
attire, made her appearance at Rome, offering to sell nine 
books, which she said were of her own composing. Not know- 
ing the abilities of the stranger, or that she was in fact one of 
the celebrated Sybils, whose prophecies were never supposed 
to fail, Tarquin refused to buy them. Upon this she departed, 
and burning three of the books, returned again, demanding the 
same price for the six remaining. Being again treated as an 

C 



26 HISTORY OF ROME. 

impostor, she went away; and having burned three more, re* 
turned with the rest, still adhering to the same price. Tarquin, 
surprised at the inconsistency of her behaviour, consulted the 
augurs. They blamed him much for not having purchased the 
nine ; and commanded him to buy the three, at any price for 
which they could be obtained. The woman, say the historians, 
after thus selling and delivering these three prophetic volumes, 
and advising him to give a special attention to what they con- 
tained, vanished from before him, and was never afterwards 
seen. He appointed proper persons to take charge of them: 
they were originally two, but were afterwards increased to fif- 
teen, under the title of q aindecemviri. The books were placed 
in a stone chest, intended to be lodged in a vault of the newly 
designed building, as the most proper for then safety. 

The people, having been for four successive years employed 
in erecting the capitol, now wished for something new to engage 
them; wherefore Tarquin, to gratify them, proclaimed war 
against the Rutuli, (upon a frivolous pretence of their having 
harboured some malefactors whom he had banished,) and in- 
vested Ardea, their chief city, which lay about sixteen miles 
from Rome. 

. Whilst the army was encamped before this place, the king's 
son Sextus, Collatinus, a noble Roman, and some others, sat 
together in a tent, drinking wine. The discourse happening 
to turn upon the beauty and virtue of their wives, each man 
praising his own, Collatinus suggested, as the best way of de- 
ciding the dispute, that they should set out that instant for Rome, 
and ascertain which of them should be found of the great- 
est beauty, and most sedulously employed, at the time of their 
arrival. Being heated with wine, the proposal was relished by 
the whole company ; and, having mounted their horses without 
delay, though the night was far advanced, they galloped off to 
Rome. There, they found Lucretia, the wife of Collatinus, 
not like other women of her age, spending the time in luxury 
and ease, but in the midst of her maids, spinning and cheerfully 
portioning out their tasks. Her modest beauty, and the easy 
reception which she gave her husband and his friends, so 
charmed them all, that they unanimously decided in her favour, 
and Sextus was so much inflamed, that he determined to gratify 
his passion. 

For that purpose, after a few days he left the camp, to visil 
her privately ; and met with the same kind reception as before. 
His intention not being suspected, Lucretia sat with him at 
tfuppor, axu) ord^-od one of the chambers to be prepared for 



HISTORY OF ROMR 37 

him. Midnight was the time chosen by this ruffian, to put his 
design into execution. Having found means to enter her 
chamber, he approached her bed side with a drawn sword ; and 
threatened her with instant death, if she offered to resist. Lu- 
cretia, thus alarmed in her sleep ; though seeing death so near, 
was yet inexorable ; until being told that if she would not yield, 
he would first kill her. and then, laying his own slave dead by 
her side, would repoiythat he found and killed them both in a 
criminal act. The terror of infamy achieved what that of death 
could not obtain ; and the next morning he returned to the 
camp, exulting in his brutal victory. In the mean time, Lu- 
cretia, detesting theJight, and resolving not to pardon herself, 
even for the crime y another, sent for her husband Collatinus, 
and for Spurius, her father, to come to her; as indelible dis- 
grace had befallen her family. They instantly obeyed the sum- 
mons, bringing with them Valerius, g. kinsman of her father's, and 
Junius Brutus, a reputed idiot, who had accidentally met the 
messenger on the way. Their arrival only served to heighten 
the poignant anguish of Lucretia : they found her in a state of 
stedfast desperation, and attempted in vain to give her relief. 
" No," said she, " never shall I find any thing in this world 
worth living for, after having lost my honour. You see before 
you, my Collatinus, a polluted wretch; one, whose person has 
been the spoil of another, but whose affections were never es- 
tranged from you. Sextus, under the pretended veil of friend- 
ship, has this night forced from me that treasure, which death 
only can restore ; — but if you have the hearts of men, you will 
avenge my cause, and let posterity know, that she who has 
lost her virtue, has no consolation but in death." So saying, 
she drew from beneath her robe, a poignard; and, plunging it 
into her bosom, expired without a groan! All remained fixed 
in sorrow, pity, and indignation: Spurius and Collatinus at 
length gave vent to their grief in tears ; but Brutus, drawing 
the poignard reeking from Lucretia's wound, and raising it 
towards Heaven, " Be witness ye gods," he cried, " that, from 
this moment, I proclaim myself the avenger of the chaste Lu- 
cretia's cause : from this moment, I profess myself the enehij 
of Tarquin and his lustful" house: henceforth, this life, whilst 
life continues, shall be employed in opposing tyranny, and pro- 
moting the freedom and happiness of my much loved country.*' 
A new amazement seized the»hearers; to find him, whom they 
had hitherto considered as an idiot, now appearing in his real 
character, the friend of justice and of Rome. *He told them 
that tears and lamentations were unmanly, when vengeance 



2b HISTORY OF ROME. 

called so loud; and, delivering the poignard to the rest, that 
%ath, which he himself had taken, he imposed upon them. 

Junius Brutus was the son of Marcus Junius, a noble Ro- 
man, who had been married to the daughter of Tarquinius 
Priscus. That connexion having created a jealousy, Marcus 
was put to death by the present king. Brutus had received an 
excellent education from his father; and had naturally a strong 
mind, and an inflexible attachment to wtue ; but, perceiving 
that Tarquin had privately murdered his father, and his eldest 
brother, he passed himself as a fool, in order to escape the 
same danger; and thence obtained the surname of Brutus. 
Tarquin, thinking him actually insane, deajised the man; and 
having seized upon his estate, kept him as^ idiot in his house, 
for the amusement of his children. 

Brutus, however, only wa^ited a favourable moment for re- 
venge ; wherefore, ordering kucretia's dead body to be brought 
out, and exposed to view in the public forum, he inflamed the ar- 
dour of the citizens, by a display of the horrid transaction. He 
obtained a decree of the senate, that Tarquin and his family 
should be forever banished from Rome,. and that it should be 
capital for any to plead for, or aid in his return. This monarch 
who had now reigned twenty-five years, being thus expelled his 
kingdom, went to take refuge with his family at Cira, a little 
city of Etruria. In the mean time, the Roman army made a 
truce with the enemy, and Brutus was declared the deliverer 
of the people. 

CHAPTER IX. 

From the banishment of Tarquin, to the appointment of the first 

dictator. 

U p The regal power having been overthrown, a form of 
9*4.^ ' government, nominally republican, was substituted. The 
senate, however, reserved far the greatest share of au- 
thority to themselves ; and decorated their own body with all 
the spoils of deposed monarchy. The centuries of the people 
chose from among the senators, two annual magistrates, whom 
they called consuls ; with power equal to that of the regal, with 
the same privileges, and the same ensigns of authority. 

Brutus, the deliverer of his country, and Collatinus, the hus- 
band of Lucretia, were the first consuls chosen in Rome. 

But this new republic, which so much gratified the people, 
was in danger of destruction, in its very comniericement 



HISTORY OF ROME. 59 

Some young men of the principal families in the state, who had 
been educated about the king, and had sfiared in all the luxuries 
and pleasures of the court, formed a party in Rome, in favour 
of Tarquin, and undertook the re-establishment of monarchy. 
This party secretly incro^ed every day ; and, surprising as it 
may appear, even the sons of Brutus, and the Aquilii, the 
nephews of Collatinus, were arnoqjgst the number. Informed 
of these intrigues in his favour, Tarquin sent ambassadors 
from Etruria to Rome, under a pretence of reclaiming the 
crown ; but in reality to give spirft to his faction. However, 
the whole plot was discovered by a slave, who, unperceived by 
the conspirators, accidentally remainefl in the room where they 
were accustomed to assemble. Few situations could be moro 
awfully affecting than that of Brutus ; — a father the judge, — 
his children the criminals ; — their lives at stake ! impelled by 
justice to condemn; — by nature, to spare them! The young 
men accused, pleaded nothing for themselves ; but, with con- 
scious guilt, awaited their sentence, in agony and silence. The 
other judges, felt all the pangs of nature; Collatinus wept, 
and Valerius could not repress his sentiments of pity. Brutus, 
alone, seemed to have lost all the softness of humanity ; and, 
with a stern countenance, and a tone of voice that marked his 
gloomy resolution, demanded of his sons, whether they could 
make any defence to the crimes with which they had been 
charged. This he repeated three several times ; but receiving 
no answer, he at length turned himself to the executioner; 
" Now," cried he, "it is your duty to do the rest." Thus 
gaying, he resumed his seat, with an air of determined majesty; 
nor could all the sentiments of paternal pity, nor the imploring 
looks of the people, nor yet the complaints of the young men, 
who were preparing for execution, alter the tenor of his decree. 
Being first entirely divested of their dress, and then whipped 
with rods, they were presently afterwards beheaded; Brutus, 
all the time, beholding the cruel spectacle with a steady look, 
and unaltered countenance, whilst the multitude gazed on, with 
mingled sensations, of pity, terror, and admiration. 

All Tarquin's hopes of an insurrection in his favour being 

thus overthrown, he now resolved to regain his former throne 

by foreign assistance, and having prevailed upon the Veientes 

to assist him, advanced with a considerable army towards Rome* 

Yj p The consuls made immediate preparations to oppose 

q' ^ ' him. Valerius commanded the foot, and Brutus being 

appointed to head the cavalry, advanced to meet him 

on the Roman borders. Aruns, the son of Tarquin, who com- 

C 2 



30 HISTORY OF ROME. 

manded the cavalry for his father, seeing Brutus^ a distance, 
resolved, by one great a4;tempt, to decide the fate of the dayy 
before the engaging of the armies ; and, spurring on his horse, 
made towards him, wUh ungovernable fury. Brutus, who per- 
ceived his approach, singled out from the ranks to meet him ; 
and each being eager only to assail, and thoughtless of defend- 
ing, they joined with such a shock, that they both fell dead 
upon the field together. A^^erious battle ensued, with equal 
slaughter on both sides ; but the Romans, remaining in posses- 
sion of the field, claimed the victory; and Yalerius returned in 
triumph to Rome. 
^.^ In the mean time, Tarquin, undaunted by his misfortunes, 
prevailed upon Porsenna, on© of the kings of Etruria, to es- 
pouse his cause, and in person to assist him in the contest. 
This prince, noted equally for courage and abilities, marched 
with a numerous army directly to Rome, and laid siege to the 
city, whilst yet tha terror of his name and his arms filled all 
ranks of people vv ith dismay. A furious attack was made on 
the place : the two consuls opposed in vain, and were carried 
off wounded from the field ; whilst the Romans, flying in great 
copsternation, v/ere pursued by the enemy to the bridge ; over 
which, both victors and vanquished were about to enter the city 
in confusion. All now appeared lost; when Horatius Codes, 
who had been placed there as centinel to defend it, opposed 
himself to the torrent of the enemy ; and, assisted only by two 
others, for some time sustained the whole fury of the assault, 
until the bridge was broken down behind him : when, finding 
the communication thus cut off*, he plunged, with his arms, 
into the torrent of the Tyber, and swam back victorious to his 
fellow soldiers, who received him with merited applause. 

Still, however, Porsenna v/as determined to take the city; 
and, though five-hundred of his men were f^lain in a sally, by 
the Romans, he reduced it to the utmost extremity; and, turn- 
ing the siege into a blockade, resolved to subdue it by famine. 
The distress of the besieged soon became insufferable, and all 
things seemed to threaten a speedy surrender, when another 
act of fierce bravery, superior even to that which saved the city 
before, again procured its safety and its freedom. 

Mutius, a youth of unda'.:ntf)d courage, resolved to rid his 
country of an enemy which so severely continued to oppose it ; 
and, for that purpose, disguised in the habit of an Etrurian 
peasant, entered the camp of the enemy, intending to kill Por- 
senna, or perish in the attempt. With this resolution, he ad- 
vanced to the place where he was paying his troops, with a 



HISTORY OF ROME. 31 

secretary by his side ; but, mistaking the latter for the king, he 
stabbed him to the heart, and was immediately apprehended, 
and brought back into the royal presence. On Porsenna's de^ 
manding who he was, and his motive for so heinous an action^ 
Mutius, without reserve, informed him of his country, and his 
design ; and, at the same time, thrusting his right hand into a 
fire which was burning upon an altar before him, " You see." 
cried he, " how Uttle I regard ths severest punishment your 
cruelty can inflict. A Roman knows not only how to act, but 
how to suffer : I am not the only person you have to fear ; three 
hundred Roman youths, like me, have conspired your destruc- 
tion; therefore, prepare for their attempts.'' Porsenna, amazed 
at so much intrepidity, had too noble a mind not to acknow- 
ledge merit, even in an enemy; he therefore ordered him to 
be safely conducted back to Rome, and offered the besieged 
conditions of peace. These were readily accepted; being 
neither hard nor disgraceful, except that twenty hostages were 
demanded : ten young men, and as many virgins of the best 
families in Rome. Even in this instance, also, the gentler sex 
were resolved to be sharers in the desperate valour of the 
times. Clelia, one of the hostages, escaping from the guards, 
and pointing out the way to the rest of her female companions, 
swam over the Tyber on horseback, amidst showers of darts 
from the enemy, and presented herself to the consul. This 
magistrate, fearing the consequences of detaining her, sent her 
back; upon which, Porsenna, that he might not be exceeded 
in generosity, not only released her, but permitted her to choose 
such of the hostages of the opposite sex, as she might wish to 
attend her. Clelia, with all the modesty of a Roman virgin, 
chose only those who were under fourteen ; alleging that their 
tender age was the least capable of sustaining the rigours of 
slavery. ^,t<- ■'- - |^ ; "/w <^^^^ *^^/- fcJ 

Tarquin, by means of his son-in-law Manlius, once more in- 
duced the Latins to espowse his interest, and chose the most 
convenient opportunity, when the plebeians were at variance 
with the senators, concerning the payment of their debts. They 
refused to go to war, unless their debts were remitted on their 
return; so that the consuls, finding their authority ins ufl[icient, 
proposed the election cf a temporary magistrate, who should 
have absolute power, not only over all ranks of the state, but 
even over th3 very laws. To this, the plebeians readily as- 
sented ; willing to give up their own power, for the sake of 
abridging that of their superiors. In consequence of this, Lar- 
gius was created the first dictator, (for so was this high office 



$2 HISTORY OF ROME. 

ailed,) being nominated to it by his colleague in the consul- 
ship. Thus, the people who could not bear to hear the name 
of a king even mentioned, readily submitted to a magistrate pos- 
sessed of much greater power : so much do the names of things 
mislead us, and so little is the form of a government irksome 
to a people, when it coincides with their prejudices. 



CHAPTER X. 

From the creation of the first dictator, to the election of the 
tribunes of the people, 

yy p Largius, being now created dictator, entered upon 
s^lp. ' his office, surrounded by his Uctors, and all the ensigns 
of ancient royalty ; and, seated upon a throne in the 
midst of the people, ordered the levies to be made in the man#- 
ner of the kings of Rome. The populace looked with terror 
upon a magistrate, whom they had invested with uncontrollable 
power; and each went peaceably to range himself under his 
respective standard. Having then gone out to oppose the 
enemy, he returned with his army; and, before his six months 
were expired, laid down the dictatorship, with the reputation of 
having exercised it with blameless lenity. 

Although, in that instance, the soldiers had submitted, they 
were resolved, by some means, to free themselves from the 
yoke of their severe masters ; and, as they had no hopes that 
their grievances would be redressed in Rome, they determined 
to fly from those whom they could not move to compassion, 
and to form a new establishment without its limits. Under the 
conduct of a plebeian, named Sicinius Bellutus, they therefore 
retired to a mountain, thence called the Mons Sacer, on the 
banks of the river Anio, within about three miles of Rome. 

The news of this defection filled the city with tumult and 
consternation : those who wished well to the army made fre- 
quent attempts to scale the walls, in order to join it. The 
Senate was not less agitated than the rest: some were for vio- 
lent measures, and repelling force by force ; others were of 
opinion that gentle means were preferable, and that over such 
enemies, a victory would be worse than a defeat. At length, 
therefore, ft was resolved to send a messenger, entreating the 
army to return, and declare their grievances ; promising, at the 
same time, an oblivion of all that had passed. 

This message not succeeding, Menenius Agrippa, one of tha 



1 



HISTORY OF ROME. S3 

wisest and most virtuous of the senators, was of opinion that 
the demands of tlie army should be granted. 

In conformity with his advice, it was determined to enter 
into a treaty with the soldiers, and to make them such offers 
as should induce them to return. Ten commissioners were ac- 
cordingly deputed; at the head of whom, were Largius and 
Valerius, who had been dictators, and Menenius Agrippa, be- 
loved equally by the senate and the people. The dignity and 
the popularity of these ambassadors, procured them a very re- 
spectable reception amongst the soldiers ; and a long conference 
commenced. Largius and Yalerius employed all their oratory, 
on the one hand, whilst Sicinius and Lucius Junius, who were 
the spokesmen of the soldiery, aggravated their distresses, with 
all that masculine eloquence, which is the child of nature. The 
conference had continued a considerable time, when Agrippa, 
k shrewd man, who himself had been originally a plebeian, and 
consequently knew what kind of eloquence was most likely to 
please the people, addressed them with that celebrated fable, 
which is so finely related by Livy. " In times of old, when 
every part of the human frame could think for itself, and each 
had a separate will of its own, they all, with common consent, 
resolved to revolt against the body: they knew no reason, they 
said, why they should toil from morning till night in its service, 
whilst the body, in the mean time, lay at its ease in the midst 
of them all, and indolently grew fat upon their labours : ac- 
cordingly, one and all, they agreed to befriend it no more. The 
feet vowed they would carry it no longer; the hands vowed 
they would feed it no longer; and the teeth averred they would 
not chew a morsel of meat, though it were placed between 
them. Thus determined, they all, for some time, showed their 
spirit, and kept their word ; but soon they found, that, instead 
of mortifying the body by these means, they only destroyed 
themselves ; they languished for a while, and perceived, when 
too late, that it was owing to the body, that they had strength 
to work, or courage to mutiny." 

This fable, the application of which is obvious, had an in* 
stantaneous effect. They unanimously cried out, that Agrippa 
should lead them back to Rome ; and were making prepara- 
tions to follow him, when Lucius Junius, beforementioned, 
withheld them ; alleging, that though they were gratefully to 
acknowledge the kind offers of the senate, yet they had no safe- 
guard, for the future, against their resentment ; and that it was 
therefore necessary for the security of the people, to have cer- 
tain officers created annually from amongst themselves, who 



34 HISTORY OF ROME. 

should have power to redress their injuries, and plead the cause 
of the community. 

The people, who are mostly of opinion with the last speaker, 
highly applauded this proposal, with which the commissioners 
had not yet the power of complying: they therefore sent to 
Rome, to take the instruction of the senate. Torn by divisions 
amongst themselves, and harassed by complaints from without, 
the senate resolved to have peace, upon any terms ; accordingly, 
as if with one voice, they consented to the creation of the new 
officers, who were called Tribunes Of The People; Appius 
alone protesting violently against the measure. 

The tribunes of the people were originally five in number ; 
though afterwards they were increased to ten. They were 
annually elected by the people, and generally chosen from their 
own body. They at first had their seats placed before the 
doors of the senate-house, and, being called in, were to examine 
every decree; annulling it by the word Veto; (I forbid it;) or 
confirming it by signing the letter T. The first tribunes chosen 
by the suffrages of the people, were Sicinius Bellutus, Lucius 
Junius, Caius Licinius, Albinus, and Icilius Ruga. The senate 
also made an edict, confirming the abolition of debts ; and now, 
all things being mutually adjusted, the people, after having 
sacrificed to the gods of the mountain, (after the manner of the 
heathens,) returned once more triumphantly to Rome. 



» CHAPTER XL 

From the creation of the tribunes, to the appointment of the 

decemviri, 

jT p During the late separation, all tillage having been 

'^ ' neglected, a famine was the consequence, the ensuing 

season. The senate used every exertion to remedy 

the distress ; but the people, pinched by want, and willing to 

throw the blame upon any but themselves, ascribed their 

present sufferings to the avarice of the Patricians, who, having 

purchased all the corn, as it was alleged, intended to procure 

indemnity, by reselling it, for losses sustained from the aboUtion 

of the people's debts. 

But the arrival of a large quantity of com again raised their 
spirits, and produced a temporary reconciliation, A great part 
of this was sent as a present to the Romans, by Gelon, the king 
of Sicily, and the rest purchased there, by the senate, with the 
public money. 



i 



HISTORY OF ROME. 35 

At this time, Coriolanus incurred their resentment, by in- 
sisting that it should not be distributed until the grievances of 
the senate were removed; for which proposition, the tribunes 
summoned him to a trial before the people. 

When the appointed day arrived, public expectation had 
arisen to the greatest height; and a vast concourse from the 
adjacent country crowded the forum. Coriolanus presented 
kimself before the people, with a degree of intrepidity which 
merited better fortune. His graceful person, his persuasive 
eloquence, the cries of those whom he had saved from the 
enemy, inclined the auditors to relent. But, being unable to 
answer what was alleged against him, to the satisfacti^ of the 
people, and utterly confounded by a new charge, of having en>- 
bezzled the plunder of Antium, the tribunes immediately took 
the votes, and Coriolanus was condemned to perpetual exile. 

This sentence, against their bravest defender, struck the 
whole body of the senate with sorrow, consternation, and regret. 
Coriolanus, alone, in the midst of the tumult, seemed an un- 
concerned spectator. He returned home, followed by the la- 
mentations of hundreds of the most respectable senators and 
citizens, to take a lasting leave of his wife and children, and 
Veturia his mother. Then, recommending his little children 
to their care, and all to the care of Heaven, he left the city, 
without followers or fortune, to seek refuge amongst the Vol- 
scians, with Tullius Attius, a man of great power, who took 
him under his protection, and espoused his quarrel. 

The first thing to be done, was to induce the Volsci to break 
the league which had been made with Rome. For this pur- 
pose, Tullius sent many of his citizens thither, to see the 
games at that time celebrating ; and, in the mean time, gave 
the senate private information that the strangers intended to 
burn the city. This had the desired effect : the senate issued 
an order that all strangers should depart before sun-set. Tullius 
represented this to his countrymen as an infraction of fhe treaty, 
and procured an embassy to Rome, complaining of the breacli, 
and re-demanding all the territories belonging to the Volscians, 
of which they had been violenfiy dispossessed. In case of a re- 
fusal, war was to be declared : this message was however treat- 
ed by the senate with contempt. 

War having thus commenced, Coriolanus and Tullius were 
made generals of the Volscian army, and accordingly entered 
the Roman territories, ravaging and laying waste all lands 
which belonged to the plebeians, but sparing those which were 
th« property of the senators. 



3o HISTORY OF ROME. 

In the mean time, the levies went on but slowly at Rome ; 
the two consuls, who were re-elected by the people, seemed 
little skilled in war ; and even feared to encounter a general, 
whom they knew to be their superior. The allies also showed 
a reluctance, and brought in their succours very slowly; so that 
Coriolanus continued to take their towns, one after another. 
Fortune favoured him in every expedition, and he was now so 
famous for his victories, that the Volsci left their towns de- 
fenceless, to follow him into the field. The very soldiers of 
his colleague's army came over to him, and would acknowledge 
no other general. Thus, finding himself unopposed in the field, 
and at the head of a numerous army, he at length invested the 
city of Rome itself, fully resolved to besiege it. Now, the 
senate and the people unanimously agree to send deputies to 
him, with proposals of restoration, if he would draw off* his 
army. Coriolanus received them at the head of his principal 
officers ; but, with the sternness of a general that was to give 
the law, refused their offers. 

Another embassy was sent forth, conjuring him not to exact, 
from his native city", any conditions but what became Romans 
to grant. Coriolanus, however, naturally inflexible and severe^ 
still persisted in his former demands, and granted them but 
three days in which to finish their deliberations. In this exi- 
gence, the only alternative was another deputation, still more 
solemn than either of the former; composed of the pontiff*s, the 
priests, and the augurs. These, clothed in their habits of cere- 
mony, and with a grave and mournful deportment, issued from 
the city, and entered the camp of the conqueror; but all ia 
vain : they found him severe and inflexible as before. 

When the people saw them return ineffectually, they gave up 
the commonwealth as lost. Their temples were filled with old 
men, with women and children; who, prostrate at the altars, 
put up their ardent prayers for the preservation of their country. 
Nothing was to be heard, but anguish and lamentation; nothing 
to be seen, but terror and distress. At length it was suggested, 
that what could not be eflTected by the intercession of the senate, 
or the adjuration of the priests, might be accompUshed by tho 
tears of his wife, or the commands of his mother. This depu- 
tation was unanimously approved; and even the very senate 
gave k the sanction of its authority. But Veturia, the mothe/ 
of Coriolanus, at first hesitated to join in so pious an under- 
taking ; knowing the inflexible temper of her son, and unwilling 
that his disobedience should be shown, m so new and striking 
an instance, as disregarding the injunctioHi^ of a parent. At 



HISTORY OF ROME. 37 

length, however, she consented, and set forward from the city, 
accompanied by many of the principal matrons of Rome, to- 
gelher with Yolumnia his wife, and his two children. Corio- 
kanus, who at a distance discovered this mournful train of fe- 
males, resolved to give them, a denial, and called his officers 
around him to witness his determination: but, when told that 
his mother and his wife were amongst the number, he instantly 
descended from his tribunal, to meet and embrace them. At 
first, the tears and caresses of the women took away the power 
of words, and the rough soldier himself, hard as he was, could 
not refrain from sharing in their distress. Coriolanus now 
seemed much agitated by contending passions: whilst his 
mother, who saw him moved, seconded her entreaties by the 
most persuasive eloquence, her tears ; his wife and children 
hung around him, begging for pity and protection, and the fair 
train, her companions, added their lamentations ; deploring their 
own misery, and that of their country. Coriolanus, for a mo- 
ment, was silent, feeling the strong conflict between honour 
and inclination; then, as if roused from a drearn, he flew to 
taise his parent, who had fallen at his feet, crying out, " 0,my 
mother, thou hast saved Rome, but lost thy son!" He accord- 
ingly gave orders to draw oflf the army ; pretending to the of- 
ficers that the city was too strong to be taken. Tullius, who 
had long envied his glory, was not remiss in aggravating this 
lenity towards his countrymen. Upon their return, Coriolanus 
was slain in an insurrection of the people, and afterwards hon- 
ourably buried, with late and ineffectual repentance. 

Great and many were the public rejoicings at Rome, upon 
the retreat of the Volscian army; but they were soon after 
interrupted by the intrigues of Spurius Cassius, who wished to 
render himself despotic by means of the people. He was 
brought to trial, convicted of a number of criminal acts tending 
to alter the constitution, and thrown headlong from the Tar- 
peian rock, by the very party whose interests he had endeavour- 
ed to promote. 

The following year, the two consuls of the preceding, ?»Ian- 
lius and Fabius, were cited, by the tribunes, to appear before the 
people. The Agrarian* law, proposed some time before, for 
dividing the lands of the commonwealth equally amongst the 
people, was the object invariably pursued ; and they were ac- 
cused of having made unjustifiable delays, in postponing it. 

It seems that the Agrarian law was a gi'ant which the senate 
could not think of conceding to the people. The consuls 
therefore formed various excuses, until they were once more 

D 



I 



38 HISTORY OF ROME. 

obliged to have recourse to a dictator. They fixed upon 
Quintus Cincinnatus, a man who had for some time given up 
all views of ambition, and retired to his little farm, where the 
deputies of the senate found him holding the plough, and 
dressed in the homely attire of a labouring husbandman. He 
appeared little elevated by their ceremonial addresses, and the 
pompous habits which they brought him ; and, upon their de- 
claring to him the wishes of the senate, he testified rather a 
concern that his aid should be required. He naturally prefer- 
red the charms of a country retirement, to the fatiguing splen- 
dours of office ; and only said to his wife, as they were leading 
him away, '' I fear, my AttiUa, that for this year, our little fields 
must remain unsown." Thus, taking a tender leave, he de- 
parted for the city, where both parties were strongly inflamed 
against each other. However, he was resolved not to lean to 
either side; but, by a strict attention to the interest of his 
country, instead of courting the confidence of faction, to gain 
the esteem of all. Thus, by threats and well-timed submission, 
he prevailed upon the tribunes to postpone their favourite law ; 
and conducted himself so as to be a terror to the multitude, 
when reluctant to enlist, and their warmest advocate on all oc- 
casions, when their conduct was approved. Having now re- 
stored to the people that tranquillity which he so much loved 
himself, he again gave up the splendours of ambition, for the 
more solid enjoyment of his little farm. 
jj p Cincinnatus had not long retired from office when 

'f.' a, fresh exigence of the state occurred: the -^qui and 
the Yolsci, though always defeated, were still for re- 
newing the war; and made new inroads into the territories of 
Rome. Minutius, o^e of the consuls who succeeded Cincin- 
natus, was sent to oppose them ; but, l^irig naturally timid, and 
more afraid of defeat, than desirous of vicloryT^iis army was 
driven into a defile between two mountains, from which, ex- 
cept through the enemy, there was no egress. 

This, iTowever, the -3Equi had the precaution to fortify; by 
which means, the Roman army was so hemmed in on every side, 
that nothing remained but submission, famine, or immediate 
death. Some knights, who found mean^ of escaping undiscover- 
ed through the enemy's camp, were the first that brought the 
' account of this dilemma to Rome. Nothing could now exceed 
the general consternation: the senate, at first, thought of the 
other consul; but, not having had sufficient experience of his 
abilities, they unanimously turned their eyes upon Cincinnatus, 
and resolved to make him dictator. This great man, the only 



HISTORY OF ROME. 3^ 

person on whom Rome could now place her whole dependence, 
was found by the messengers of the senate, as before, labour > 
ing in his little field, with cheerful industry. He was at first 
astonished at the ensigns of unbounded power, with which the 
deputies came to invest him ; but still more at the approach of 
the senate, who left the city to meet him. A dignity so unex- 
pected, had, however, no effect upon the simplicity of his man- 
ners, or his integrity ; and, being now possessed of absolute 
power, and called upon to nominate his master of the horse, he 
chose a poor man, named Tarquitius ; one who, like himself, 
despised riches, when they lead to dishonour. Thus, the 
saving of a great nation devolved upon a husbandman, taken 
from the plough, and an obscure centinel, found amongst the 
lowest ranks of the army. Upon entering the city, the dic- 
tator assumed a serene look, and entreated all those capable 
of bearing arms, to assemble before sun-set in the Campus 
Martius, (the place where the levies were made,) fully accou- 
tred and provisioned for five days. He put himself at their 
head; and, marching with great expedition, arrived, before (l\s,y 
light, within view of the enemy. Upon his approach, he or- 
dered the soldiers to raise a loud shout, to apprize the consul's 
army of the relief which was at hand. The iEqui were not a 
little amazed, when they saw themselves between two enemies ; 
but still more, when they perceived Cincinnatus making the 
strongest entrenchments to prevent their escape, and enclosing 
them, as they had enclosed the consul. To frustrate this, a 
furious combat ensued; but the ^^qui, being attacked on two 
sides, and unable to resist or fly, begged a cessation of arms. 
They ofiered the dictator his own terms : he gave them their 
lives, but obliged them, in token of servitude, to pass under the 
yoke. This was formed of two spears, set upright, with 
another across, in the form of a gallows; beneath which, the 
vanquished were to march. Their captains and generals, he 
made prisoners of war ; being reserved to adorn his triumph. 
He gave the plunder of the enemy's camp entirely up to his 
own soldiers, without reserving any part for himself, or permit- 
ting those of the delivered army to have a share. Thus, hav- 
ing rescued a Roman army from inevitable destruction ; having 
defeated a powerful enemy; having taken and fortified their 
city; and still more, having refused any part of the spoil, he 
resigned his dictatorship, after having held it only fourteen 
days. The senate would have enriched him, but he declined 
their offers, choosing to retire, once more, to his farm and hia 
cottage, contented with temperance and fame. 



40 inSTOBY OF ROME. 

But this repose from foreis^n invasion did not lessen the in- 
ternal tumults orthe<!'ity. The clamours for the Agrarian la\r 
still continued; and were increased by Siccius Dentatus, a 
plebeian advanced in years, but of a commanding person and 
military deportment, who came forward to enumerate his hard- 
ships and his merits. This old soldier openly extolled the va- 
rious achievements of his youth : and indeed his merits were 
an apolooy for his ostentation. He had, during forty years 
served his country, in the w ars : he had been an oficer thirty 
first, a centurion, and then a tribune : he had fought one hun- 
dred-and-twcnty rattles, in which, by the force of his cringle 
arm, he had saved many lives: he had gained fourteen civic, 
three mural, and eight golden crowns; besides eighty-three 
chains, sixty bracelets, eighteen gilt spears, and twenty-three 
horse trappings, whereof nine were for killing the enemy in 
single combat: moreover, he had received forty-five wounds 
in front, and none behind. These were his honours: yet, 
notwithstanding, he had never received any share of those 
lands wh'ch were taken from the enemy, but continued to 
waste his days in poverty and contempt ; whilst others were 
possessed of those very territories which his valour had won, 
without any merit to deserve them, or ever having contributed 
to the conquest. A case of so much hardship had a strong 
effect upon the multitude; they unanimously demanded that the 
law might be passed, and that such services sliould not go un- 
rewarded. It was in vain that some of the senators rose to 
speak against it : their voices were drowned by the cries of the 
people. When reason therefore could no longer be heard, 
passion, as usual, succeeded; and the young patricians running 
furiously into the throng, broke the balloting urns, and dispersed 
the multitude which offered to oppose them. For this, the} 
were afterwards fined by the tribunes; but their resolution for 
the present postponed the Agrarian law. 



CHAPTER XH. 

Frojii the creation of the Decemviri to the extinction of that 

office. 

rj Q The commonwealth of Rome, had, for nearly sixty 

S02 * y^'^**^? been fluctuating between the contendinuj orders 

which composed it; until, at length, each side, as if 

weary, were willin^r to respire awhile from the mutual assertion 

of their claims. The citizens, therefore, of every rank, began 



HISTORY OF ROME. At 

now to complain of the arbitrary decisions of their magistrates; 
and wished to be guided by a written body of laws, which being 
known, might prevent wrongs, as well as punish them. In this, 
both the senate and the people concurred, hoping* that such 
laws would put an end to the commotions which so long had 
harassed the state. It was thereupon agreed, that ambassa- 
dors should be sent to the Greek cities in Italy, and to Athens, 
to select such laws, as by experience had been found the most 
equitable and useful. For this purpose, three senators. Post- 
humius, Sulpicius, and Manlius, were appointed, and a convoy 
of galleys assigned them, corresponding with the majes-ty of 
the Roman people. During their absence upon this commission, 
a dreadful plague depopulated the city, and supplied the interval 
with other anxiety besides that of wishing their arrival. In 
about a year, the plague ceased, and the ambassadors returned; 
bringing home a body of laws, collected from the most civilized 
states of Greece and Italy. These were afterwards compiled 
into ten tables, which, with two more that were added, formed 
that celebrated code called the Laivs of the Twelve Tables, 
many fragments of which remain to this day. 

Upon the return of the ambassadors, the tribunes had required 
that a body of men should be chosen, not only to digest their 
new lav/s into proper form, but also to give weight to their 
execution. After long debates, whether this choice should not, 
be partly made from the people, as well as the patricians, it 
was at last agreed that ten of the principal senators should 
be elected ; whose power continuing for a year, should be equal 
to that of kings and consuls, and from which there should be 
no appeal. Those appointed were Appius and Genutius ; (who 
had been elected consuls for the ensuing year;) Posthumius, 
Sulpicius, and Manhus, the three ambassadors; Sextus and 
Romulus, former consuls, v/ith Julius, Veturius, and Horatius, 
senators of the first consideration. Thus, the whole constitu- 
tion of the state at once took a n^w form; and a dreadful ex- 
pijriment was about to be tried, of governing one nation, by 
laws corresponding with the manners and customs of another. 

The decemviri being now invested with absolute power, 
agreed to take the reins of government alternately; and that 
each should dispense justice for a day. 

These magistrates, for the first year, attended incessantly 
to business, and their work being finished, it was of course ex- 
pected that they would resign their office ; but having expe- 
perienced the charms of power, they were unwilUng to retire : 
they therefore pretended that some laws were yet wanting to 

D 2 



42 HISTORY OF ROME. 

complete their design, and intreated the senate to allow them 
further time ; to which, that body assented. 

But they soon threw off the mask of moderation ; and, re- 
gardless of the approbation either of the senate or the people, 
resolved, against all order, to continue in the decemvirate. A 
conduct so notorious produced discontents, and these were as 
sure to promote fresh acts of tyranny. The city was almost 
deserted by all who had any thing to lose ; and the rapacity of 
the decemvirate was then only discontinued, when they wanted 
objects on which to exercise it. In this state of slavery, pro- 
scription, and mutual distrust, not one citizen was found to 
strike for his country's freedom. These tyrants continued to 
rule without control ; being constantly guarded, not only by 
their lictois, but also a numerous crowd of dependants, clients, 
and even patricians, whom their vices had confederated around 
them. 

In this gloomy situation of the state, the ZEqui, and Yolsci, 
(those constant enemies of the Romans,) having resolved to 
profit by their intestine divisions, undertook their incursions, 
and advanced within about ten miles of Rome. 

But the decemviri, being put in possession of all the military, 
as well as civil power, divided their army into three parts ; oae 
of which continued with Appius in the city, to keep it in 
awe ; the other two were commanded by his colleagues, and 
were led, one against the ^qui, the other against the Sabines. 

The Roman soldiers had now got into a method of punish- 
ing the generals whom they disliked, by suffering themselves* 
to be vanquished. This, they now put in practice, and shame- 
fully abandoned their camp upon the approach of the enemy 
Never was the news of a victory more joyfully received al 
Rome, than were the tidings of this defeat. The generals, as 
is usual, were blamed for the treachery of their men; some 
demanded that they should be deposed; others cried out foi 
a dictator, to lead the troops to conquest; 'and amongst the 
rest, old Siccius Dentatus, the tribune, spoke his sentiments 
with his usual openness; showing all the defects of their dis- 
eif)line in the camp, and their conduct in the field. Appius, in 
the mean time, was not remiss in observing the disposition of 
ihe people. Dentatus, in particular, was marked out for ven- 
geance, and under pretence of doing him particular honour, he 
was appointed legate, and put at the head of the supplies, which 
weffe sent to reinforce the army. The office of legate was held 
sacred amongst the Romans, as in it were united the authority 
of a general, with the reverence due to the priesthood. Den- 



HISTORY OF ElOME. 43 

tatus, not suspecting his design, went to the camp with alacrity, 
where he was received by the generals with all the external 
marks of respect. But they soon found means of indulging 
their desire of revenge. He was appointed, at the head of a 
hundred men, to discover a more commodious place for en- 
campment, as he had very candidly assured the commanders 
that their present situation was badly chosen. The soldiers, 
however, who composed his escort, were assassins ; wretches 
that had long been ministers of the vengeance of the decemviri, 
and who engaged to murder him ; though with ail those appre- 
hensions, which his reputation, (as he v/as called the Roman 
Achilles,) might be supposed to inspire. With these designs, 
they led him into the hollow bosom of a retired mountain, 
where they began to set upon him from behind. Dentatus, 
now too late, perceived the treachery of the decemviri, and re- 
solved to sell his life as dearly as he could; he therefore put 
his back to a rock, and defended himself with the most heroic 
bravery. Though now gron^n old, he had still the remains of 
his former vigour, and killed no less than fifteen, and wounded 
thirty of the assailants, with his own hand ! The assassins, now 
terrified by his amazing heroism, shower in their javelins at a 
distance; — he receives them in his shield, with undaunted reso- 
lution. The combat, notwithstanding the inequality of num- 
bers, is carried on for some time with doubtful success! But 
his dastardly assailants once more change the mode of attack : 
they ascend the rock against which he stands, and pour down 
stones upon him from above. By their united efforts, the old 
soldier falls; — showing by his death, that his frequent victories 
were owing, not to fortune, but to his own fortitude and courage. 
The decemviri pretended to join in the general sorrow for so 
brave a man, and decreed him a funeral with the highest mili- 
tary honours ; but the greatness of their apparent distress, com- 
pared with their real hatred, only rendered them still more de- 
testable to the people. 

Another transaction, equally atrocious, inspired the citizens 
with a resolution to break all measures of obedience, and 
eventually to restore freedom. Appius, who still remained in 
the city, when sitting on his tribunal to dispense justice, saw a 
young female of exquisite beauty, about fifteen years of age, 
passing to one of the public schools, attended by a matron, her 
nurse. Her charms, heightened by that modest glow, which 
innocence and virtue lend to nature, caught his attention, and 
fired his heart. The day following, as she passed, he found 
her still more beautiful; and his breast still more inflamed. 



44 HISTORY OF ROME. 

He therefore resolved to obtain the gratification of his passion, 
whatever should be the consequence ; and soon found means 
of discovering her name and family. She was called Virginia. 
Her father was Yirginius, a centurion, then with the army in 
the field. She had been contracted to Icilius, formerly a tri- 
bune of the people ; who had agreed to marry her, at the end 
of the present campaign. Appius, at first, resolved to break 
this match, and to espouse her himself; but the laws of the 
twelve tables forbade the patricians to intermarry with the ple- 
beians ; and he was unwilling to infringe those laws, the enact* 
ment of which had been sanctioned by himself. After having 
in vain tried to corrupt the fidelity of the nurse, he had re- 
course to another expedient not less guilty. He directed one 
Claudius, who had long been the minister of his pleasures, to 
assert that Virginia was his slave ; and to refer the cause to his 
tribunal, for decision. Claudius obeyed his instructions ; and, 
entering the school where Virginia was playing amongst her fe- 
male companions, he seized upon her as his property, and would 
have dragged her ofi^by force, but was prevented by the people, 
who were drawn together by her cries. At length, after the 
first heat of opposition had subsided, he led the weeping victim 
to the tribunal of Appius, and there plausibly exposed his pre- 
tensions. He asserted that she was bom in his house, of a 
female slave : that she had sold her to the wife of Virginius, 
who was childless. The truth of this statement, he said, could 
be proved by many credible witnesses; but, until they couh^ 
come together, it was but reasonable that the slave should be 
delivered into his custody, he being, by right, her master. Ap- 
pius seemed to be struck by the justice of his claim; he ol>- 
served, that if the reputed father himself were present, he might 
indeed be willing to delay the delivery of the girl for some 
time; but that it was not lawful, in the present case, to detain 
her from her proper master. He therefore adjudged her to 
Claudius, as his slave; to remain with him until Virginius 
should be able to prove his paternity. This sentence was re- 
ceived by the multitude with loud _clamours and reproaches ; 
the women surrounded the innocent Virginia, wishing to pro- 
tect her from the eftects of so unjust an award; whilst Icihus, 
her lover, boldly opposed the decree, and obliged Claudius to 
take refuge under the tribunal of the decemvir. All things now 
threatened an open insurrection; when Appius, fearing the 
event, thought proper to suspend his judgment, until the arrival 
of Virginius, who was then about eleven miles from Rome, 
with the army. The day following was fixed for the trial ; and, 



HISTORY OF ROME. 45 

in the njean time, Appins sent orders to the generals, to con- 
fine Virginius, as his arrival in town might only serve to kindle 
sedition amongst the people. The letters were howe er in- 
tercepted, bjthe centurion's friends, who transmitted him a full 
relation of the plot against the liberty and the honour of his 
only daughter. Virginius, upon this, pretending the death of 
a near relation, obtained permission to leave the camp, and flew 
to Rome, inspired with indignation and revenge. Accordingly, 
the next day, to the astonishment of Appius, he appeared be- 
fore the tribunal, leading his weeping daughter by the hand, 
both habited in the deepest mourning. Claudius, the ac- 
cuser, was also there, and began by making his demand. Then 
Virginius spoke: he represented that his wife had many chil- 
dren; that their births could be well attested; that if he had 
intentions of adopting the child of another, he would have fixed 
upon a boy, rather than a girl ; that it was notorious to all, that 
his wife had suckled her own child ; and that it was surprising 
such a claim should now be brought forward, after a lapse of 
fifteen years. Whilst the father spoke this with a stern air, 
Virginia stood trembhng by, and with looks of persuasive in- 
nocence, added weight to his remonstrances. The people 
seemed entirely convinced of the hardness of his case ; when 
Appius, fearing that w^hat he said might have dangerous eifectg 
upon the multitude, interrupted him, under pretence of being 
sufficiently instructed in the merits of the cause. *^ My con- 
science," says he, " obliijes me to declare, that I myself am a 
witness to the truth of the deposition of Claudius. Most of 
this assembly know that I was left guardian to this youth, and 
that I was very early apprized of his right to this young woman; 
but the affairs of the public, and the dissensions of tlie people, 
then prevented me doing hiip justice. However, it is not now 
too late; and, by the power vested in me for the public good, 
I adjudge Virginia to be the property of Claudius, the plaintiff. 
Go, therefore, lictors, disperse the multitude ; and make room 
for a master to take possession of his slave." The Hctors, 
in obedience to his commands, soon drove olf the throng which 
pi'essed around the tribunal: and now they seized upon Vir- 
ginia, and were delivering her up into the hands of Claudius, 
when Virginius, seeing ihat all w^as over, seemed to acquiesce 
in the sentence. He therefore mildly entreated Appius to be 
permitted to take a last farewell of one whom he had long 
considered as his child; and thus satisfied, he would return 
with fresh alacrity to his duty. With this, the decemvir com- 
plied; but upon condition, that tljeir endearments should pass 



46 HISTORY OF ROME. 

in his presence. Virginius, with the most poignant anguish, 
took bis almost expiring daughter in his arms, for a while sup- 
ported her head upon his breast, and wiped away the tears that 
rolled down her lovely face; then, (happening to be near the 
shops which surrounded the forum,) he snatched up a knife that 
lay on the shambles, and addressing his daughter; " My dear- 
est — lost child," he cried, " this — this only, can preserve your 
freedom, and your honour." So saying, he buried th-e weapon 
in her breast ; and then holding it up, reeking from her wound, 
" Appius," he exclaimed, " by this blood of innocence, I devote 
thy head to the infernal gods!" Thus saying, with the bloody 
knife in his hand, and threatening destruction to all who should 
oppose him, he ran through the city, wildly calling on the people 
to strike for freedom, and thence to the camp, to spread the 
flame of liberty throughout the amy. 

When arrived there, followed by a number of his friends, he 
informed the soldiers of what had passed ; still holding in his 
hand the bloody knife. He asked their pardon, and the pardon 
of the gods, for having committed so rash an action; but as- 
cribed it all to the dreadful necessity of the times. The army, 
already predisposed, immediately, by shouts, echoed their ap- 
probation; and decamping, left their generals behinil, to take 
tlieir station, once more, upon mount Aventine, whither they 
had retired about forty years before. The other army, which 
had been opposed to the Sabines, seemed actuated by a similar 
resentment, and went over in large parties to join them. 

Appius, in the mean time, did all he could to quell the dis- 
turbances in the city ; but, finding the tumult incapable of con- 
trol, and perceiving that his inveterate enemies, Valerius and 
Horatius, were the most active in opposition, he at first at- 
tempted to find safety by flight. Nevertheless, being encouraged 
by Oppius, one of his colleagues, he ventured to assemble the 
senate, and urged the punishment of all deserters. The senate, 
however, were far from concurring with his desires : they fore- 
saw the dangers and miseries that would most probably fall 
upon the state, by opposition to an incensed soldiery; they 
therefore despatched messengers to them, oflTering to restore 
their former mode of government. To this proposal, all the 
people joyfully assented; and the army, gladly acceding, now 
returned to the city, if not with the ensigns, at least with the 
pleasure, of a triumphal entry. Appius and Oppius both died 
by their own hands in prison. The remaining eight decemvirs 
went into voluntary exile ; and Claudius, the pretended master 
of Virginia, was driven after them. 



HISTORY OF ROME. 47 

In the meantime, these intestine tumults produced weakness 
within the state, and confidence in the enemy abroad. The 
wars with the ^qui and the Yolsci still continued; and, as 
each year gave the enemy some trifling advantages over the 
Romans, they at last advanced so far, as to make their incur- 
sions to the very walls of the city. 

jy p But not the courage only of the Romans seemed di- 
^' ' minished by these conquests, but their other virtues 
also; particularly their justice. About this time, the 
inhabitants of two neighbouring cities, Ardea and Aricia, had 
a contest between themselves, respecting some lands which 
had long been claimed by both ; and, being unable to agree, 
they referred it to the senate and the people of Rome. The 
senate had yet some of the principles of primitive justice re- 
maining, and felt it their duty, as the case stood, to allow it to 
remain undecided. But the people readily undertook the mat- 
ter; and one Scaptius, an old man, declaring that these very 
lands belonged of right to Rome, they immediately voted them- 
selves to be the legal proprietors, and sent home the foreign 
litigants, fully convinced of their own folly, and of the Roman 
injustice. 

The tribunes now grew more turbulent : they proposed two 
laws ; one to permit the plebeians to intermarry with patricians; 
the other to qualify them to be admitted to the consulship. 
The senators received this proposal with indignation, and 
seemed resolved to undergo the utmost extremity, rather than 
submit to their enaction. However, finding that their resist- 
ance only increased the commotions of the state, they at last 
agreed to pass the law relating to marriages ; hoping that this 
concession would satisfy the people. They were, however, to 
be appeased but for a very short time ; for, returning to their 
old custom of refusing to enlist on the approach of an enemy, 
the consuls were obliged to hold a private conference with the 
chief of the senate, when, after many debates Claudius pro- 
posed an expedient, as the most probable means of satisfying 
them in the present conjuncture. This was, to create six or 
eight governors, in the room of consuls ; of whom, one half, at 
least, should be patricians. This project, which was in fact 
granting what the people demanded, pleased the whole meeting; 
and it was agreed that at the next public assembling of tlie 
senate, the consuls should, contrary to their usual custom, 
begin by asking the opinion of the youngest senator. Upon 
their meeting, one of the tribunes accused them of folding 



48 HISTORY OF ROME. 

secret conferences, and of dangerous designs against the people. 
The consuls, on the other hand, averred their innocence ; and, 
to demonstrate their sincerity, gave any of the younger mem- 
bers of the house leave to deliver their opinions. These re- 
maining silent, such of the senior senators as were knovtn to 
be popular, began by observing, that the people ought to be 
indulged in their request: that none so well deserved power 
as those who were the most instrumental in gaining it; and 
that the city could not be free, until all were reduced to perfect 
equality. Claudius spoke next, and broke out into bitter in- 
vectives against the people; asserting that it was his opinion, 
that the law should not pass. This produced some disturbance 
amongst the plebeians ; at length, Genutius proposed, (which 
had been preconcerted,) that six governors should be annually 
chosen, with consular authority; three from the senate, and 
three from the people; and that, at the expiration of their 
term of magistracy, then it might be determined whether they 
w^ould have the same office continued, or whether the consul- 
ship should be estabhshed upon its former footing. This pro- 
ject was eagerly embraced by the people ; yet so fickle were 
the multitude, that though many of the plebeians stood candi- 
dates, the choice fell exclusively upon the patricians. These 
new magistrates were called Military Tribunes: they were at 
jy p first only three, afterwards they were increased to four, 
^' ' and at length to six. They had the power and ensigns 
of consuls ; yet that power being divided amongst a 
number, each, singly, was of less authority. The first that 
were chosen continued in office only about three months ; the 
augurs having discovered some informality in the ceremonies 
of their election. 

The military tribunes being deposed, the consuls once more 
came into office ; and, in order to lighten the weight of business 
which they were obliged to sustain, a new department was 
formed; that of Censors ; to be chosen every fifth year. Their 
duty was to estimate the number and estates of the people, and 
to distribute them into their proper classes; to inspect the 
morals and manners of their fellow citizens ; to degrade senators 
for misconduct; to dismount knights ; and, in case of misde- 
meanor, to reduce the plebeians into an inferior tribe. The 
first censors were Pa])irius and Sempronius, both patricians-; 
and from this order they continued to be elected for nearly 
one-hundred years. 

Tliis new creation served to restore harmony amongst themi 



HISTORY OF ROME. 49 

and a triumph gained over the Volscians, by Geganius the con- 
sul, added to the universal satisfaction which reigned amongst 
the people. 

Yj p This calm, however, was only of short continuance. 

«* * Sometime after, a famine pressing hard upon the poor, 
the usual complaints against the rich were renewed ; 
which, as before, proving ineffectual, produced new seditions. 
The consuls were accused of neglect, in not having provided 
sufficient quantities of corn: they, however, disregarded tho 
murmurs of the populace; contented with exerting all their 
care in attempts to supply the pressing necessities. But, 
though they did all that could be expected from active magis- 
trates, in collecting provisions, and distributing them amongst 
the poor, yet Spurius Maelius, a rich knight who had purchased 
up all the corn of Tuscany, far outshone them in liberality. 
This demagogue, inflamed with a desire of becoming powerful 
by the contentions in the state, daily distributed corn in great 
quantities amongst the poorer sort; until his house became the 
asylum of all who wished to exchange a life of labour, for one 
of lazy dependence. When he had thus gained a sufficient 
number of partisans, he procured large quantities of arms to be 
brought into his house, by night; and formed a conspiracy, by 
which he was to obtain the command; whilst some of the tri- 
bunes, whom he had found means to corrupt, were to act under 
him, in seizing upon the liberties of his country. Minucius 
soon discovered the plot ; and, informing the senate, they im- 
mediately determined to create a dictator, who should have the 
power of quelling the conspiracy, without appealing to the 
people. Cincinnatus, who was now eighty years old, was 
chosen once more to rescue his country from impending ruin. 
He began by summoning Ma3lius to appear; who refused to 
obey. He next sent Ahala, the master of his horse, to com- 
pel him ; who, meeting Mcelius in the forum, and pressing him 
to go to the dictator's tribunal, on his refusal, killed him on the 
spot. The dictator applauded the resolution of his officer; 
and commanded the conspirator's goods to be sold, his house 
to be demolished, and his stores of corn to be distributed amongst 
the people. 

The tribunes of the people were much enraged at the death 
of Msslius ; and, in order to punish the senate at the next elec- 
tion, instead of consuls, they insisted upon restoring their mili- 
tary tribunes ; with which demand, the senate were obliged to 
comply. 

£ 



50 HISTORY OF ROME. 

U. C. The next year, however, the consuls were re-estab- 
315. lished, and the government assumed its ancient form. 
The people of Veii had long been rivaling those of Rome. 
They had always taken the opportunity of its internal dis- 
tresses, to ravage its tenitories ; and had even threatened with 
outrage the ambassadol-s, sent to complain of these injuries. 
It seemed now, therefore, determined that the city of Veii, 
whatever it might cost, should fall ; and the Romans accord- 
ingly sat regularly down before it, prepared for a long and 
painful resistance. The strength of the place may be inferred 
from the length of the siege, it having continued for ten years; 
during which time, the army remained encamped around the 
walls. In winter, they lay in tents, made of the skins of beasts ; 
and in summer drove on the operations of attack. Various, 
was the success, and many were the commanders that directed 
the siege ; sometimes, all the works of the besiegers were de- 
stroyed, and numbers of their men cut off, by sallies from the 
town ; sometimes, they were annoyed by an army of Veians, 
who attempted to bring assistance from without. A siege so 
destructive threatened even Rome itself with depopulation, by 
draining its forces continually away. In order to carry it on 
with greater vigour, Furius Camillus was created dictator, and 
to him was entrusted the sole power of managing the long pro- 
tracted war. Camillus, who, without intrigue, or any solicita- 
tion, had raised himself to the first eminence in the state, had 
been chosen one of the censors some time before; of which 
office he was considered as the head. Being afterwards made 
a military tribune, he, in that post, had gained several advan 
tages over the enemy ; and it was owing to his great courage 
and abilities in those situations, that he was deemed the most 
eligible to serve his country on this pressing occasion. On his 
appointment, numbers of the people flocked to his standard, 
confident of success under so experienced a commander. Con- 
scious, however, thathe was unable to take the city by storm, 
he secretly, and with vast labour, wrought into it a mine, which 
opened through the midst of the citadel. Certain thus of suc- 
cess, and finding the city incapable of relief, he sent to the 
senate, desiiing that all who wished to share in the plunder of 
Veii, should immediately repair to the army. Then, giving his 
men directions Jhow to enter at the breach, the city was in^ 
stantly filled with his legions, to the amazement and constema^ 
tion of the besieged, who, but a moment before, had rested in 
oerfect security. Thus, like a second Troy, was the city of 



HISTORY OF ROME. 51 

Veil taken, after a ten years siege, and, with its spoils, enrich- 
ed the conquerors ; whilst Camillus himself, transported by the 
honour of having subdued the rival of his native city, triumph- 
ed after the manner of the kings of Rome. His chariot was 
drawn by four milk-white horses ; a distinction which did^^ot 
fail to disgust the majority of the spectators; for they consi- 
dered those as sacred, and more proper for doing honour to 
their gods, than their generals. 

His usual good fortune attended Camillus in another expe- 
dition, against the Falisci: he routed their army, and besieged 
their capital city, Falerii, which threatened a long and vigorous 
resistance. The reduction of this little place, would have been 
scarcely worth mentioning, in this scanty page, were it not for 
an action of the Roman general, which has done him more 
credit with posterity, than all his triumphs united. A person 
who superintended the education of the children belonging to 
the principal men of the city, having found means to decoy 
his pupils into the Roman camp, offered to put them into the 
hands of Camillus, as the surest means of inducing the citi- 
zens to a speedy surrender. The general was struck with the 
treachery of this wretch, whose duty it was to protect inno- 
cence, not to betray it: he for some time regarded the traitor 
with a stern air, but at last finding words, " Execrable villain," 
cried the noble Roman, ** offer thy arbominable proposals to 
creatures like thyself, but not to me ; what, though we are the 
enemies of your city, yet there are natural ties that bind all 
mankind, which should never be broken : there are duties re- 
quired from us in war, as well as in peace ; we fight not against 
helpless children, but against men ; men, who have used us ill 
indeed, yet whose crimes are virtues, when compared with 
thine. Against such base arts, let it be my duty to use only 
Roman arts — the arts of valour and of arms." So saying, he 
ordered him to be stripped, his hands tied behind him, and, in 
that ignominious manner, to be whipped into the town, by his 
own scholars. This generous behaviour of Camillus, effected 
more than his arms : the magistrates immediately submitted to 
the senate, leaving to Camillus the conditions of their surren- 
der ; who only fined them a sum of money, to satisfy his army. 
He then received them under the protection, and into the alli- 
ance of Rome. 

Notwithstanding the veneration which the virtues of Camillus 
had excited abroad, they seemed but little adapted to gain the 
respect of the turbulent tribunes at home, as they every day 
raised some fresh accusation against him. To the charge of 



I 



52 HISTORY OF ROME. 

being an opposer of their intended migration from Rome to 
Veil, they added that of his having concealed a part of the 
plunder of that city, particularly two brazen gates, for his own 
use ; and appointed him a day, on which to appear before the 
people. Camillus, finding the multitude exasperated against 
him, on many accounts, and detesting their ingratitude, resolv- ' 
ed not to wait the ignominy of a trial ; but, embracing his wife 
and children, prepared to depart from Rome. He had already 
passed as far as one of the gates, unattended on his way, and 
unlamented. There, ]ie could no longer suppress his indigna- 
tion ; but, turning his face to the capitol, and lifting up his hands 
to heaven, he entreated all the gods that his country might one 
day be sensible of their injustice and ingratitude ; and, so say- 
ing, he travelled on, to take refuge in a town, at a little dis- 
tance, called Ardea. Here, he afterwards learned, that he had 
been fined fifteen hundred asses, by the tribunes at home. 

The tribimes were not a little pleased ^vith their triumph 
over this great man; but they soon had reason to repent of 
their injustice, and to wish for the assistance of one, who only, 
was able to save their country from ruin. For now, an enemy 
more terrible, and more formidable, than the Romans had ever 
yet encountered, began to ma.ke their appearance. The 
Gauls, a barbarous nation, had, about two centuries before, 
made an irruption from beyond the Alps, and settled in the 
northern parts of Italy. They were fond of emigration, and 
had been invited over by the delicious quality of the wines, and 
the softness of the climate. Wherever they came, they dis- 
possessed the original inhabitants ; being men of superior cour- 
age, extraordinary stature, fierce in aspect, and barbarous in 
their manners. A body of these, wild from their original habi 
tations, were now, under the conduct of Brennus, their king 
besieging Clusium, a city of Etruria. The inhabitants of that 
city, alarmed by their numbers, and still more by their savage 
appearance, entreated the assistance, or at least the mediation, 
of the Romans. The senate, who had long made it a maxim 
never to refuse succour to the distressed, were willing previ- 
ously to send ambassadors to the Gauls, to dissuade them from 
their enterprise, and show the injustice of their irruption. Ac- 
cordingly, three young senators, of tl e family of the Fabii, 
who seemed better fitted for the field than the cabinet, were 
appointed to the embassy. Brennus received them with a de- 
gree of complaisance which evinced Httle of the barbarian; 
and, desiring to know their business, was answered, according 
to their instructions, that it was not customary in Italy to make 



HISTORY OF ROME. 53 

war, but on just grounds of provocation ; and that they wished 
to know, what offence the citizens of Clusium had given to the 
king of the Ganls. To this, Brennus sternly repUed, that the 
rights of vahant men lay in their swords; that the Romans 
themselves had no other right to the many cities they had con- 
quered; and that he had particular reasons of resentment 
against the people of Clusium, as they had refused to part with 
those lands, which they had neither hands to till, nor inhabit- 
ants to occupy. The Roman ambassadors, who were httle 
used to hear the language of a conqueror, for a while dissem- 
bled their indignation at this haughty reply ; but, on entering 
the besieged city, forgetful of their sacred characters, in- 
stead of acting as ambassadors, they headed the citizens in a 
sally against the besiegers. In this combat, Fabius Ambustus 
killed a Gaul with his own hand, but was discovered whilst 
despoihn^ him of his armour. A conduct, so unjust and un- 
becoming, excited the resentment of Brennus; who, having 
made his complaint to the senate by a herald, and finding no 
redress, immediately broke up the siege, and, mth his conquer- 
ing army, marched directly to Rome. The countries, through 
which the Gauls passed in their rapid progress, gave up all 
hopes of safety^; being terrified at their vast numbers, their 
natural fierceness, and dreadful preparations for war. But the 
rage and impetuosity of this wild people were directed only 
against Rom^. They passed on, without doing the least in- 
jury in their march, still breathing vengeance only against the 
Romans: and a terrible engagement soon ensued, near the 
river A Ilia, in which the latter w^ere defeated, with the loss ol 
nearly fort^ thousand men. 

Rome, thus deprived of all succour, prepared for every ex 
tremity. One part of the inhabitants endeavoured to hida 
themselves in the neighbouring towns : the other resolved to 
await the conqueror's fury, and end their lives with the ruin of 
their native city. But, more particularly, the ancient senators 
and priests, struck with a religious enthusiasm on this occa- 
sion, resolved to devote their lives, to atone for the crimes oi 
^the people, and, habited in their robes of ceremony, place ck 
themselves in the forum, on their ivory chairs. The Gauls, m 
the mean time, were giving a loose to their triumph, in sharing 
and enjoying the plunder of their enemy's camp. Had they 
immediately marched to Rome on gaining the victory, the capi- 
tol itself would have fallen ; but they continued two days feast- 
ing on the field of battle^ and with barbarous pleasure, exulcing 
amidst their slaughtered enemies. On tlie third day after the 



54 KtlStORY or ROME. 

victory, (the easiness of which much amazed the Gauls,) 
Brennus appeared, with all his forces, before the city. He was 
at first much surprised to find the gates wide open to receive 
him, and the walls defenceless, and began to impute the un- 
guarded situation of the place, to a stratagem of the Romans^ 
After proper precautions, he entered ; and, marching into the 
forum, there beheld the ancient senators sitting in their order, 
observing a profound silence, unmoved and undaunted. The 
splendid habits, the majestic gravity, and the venerable looks, 
a[ these old men, who, in their time, had all borne the highest 
offices of the state, awed the barbarous enemy into reverence : 
they took them to be the tutelar deities of the place, and began 
to oifer them blind adoration ; until one, more forward than the 
rest, put forth his hand, to stroke the beard of Papyrius : this 
insult, the noble Roman could not endure, and lifting up his 
ivory sceptre, he struck the savage to the ground. This seem- 
ed as a signal for general slaughter. Papyrius fell first, and 
ail the rest shared his fate, without mercy or distinction. The 
fierce invaders thus pursued their slaughter for three days suc- 
cessively, sparing neither sex nor age ; and then, setting fire 
to the city, burned every house to the ground. 
jj p All the hopes of Rome were now placed in the capi- 
^' ' tol : every thing without that fortress, was but an ex- 
tensive scene of misery, desolation, and despair. 
Brennus, with threats, first summoned it to surrender; but in 
vain : he then resolved to besiege it in form, and hemmed it 
round with his army. Nevertheless, the Romans repelled his 
attempts with great bravery: despair had supplied them with 
that perseverance and vigour, which they seemed ^to want in 
prosperity. 

In the mean while, Brennus carried on the siege with great 
ardour ; hoping, in time, to starve the garrison into a capitula- 
tion : but they, sensible of his intention, although they were in 
actual want, caused several loaves to be thrown into his camp, 
to convince him of the futility of such expectations. His hopes, 
failing in this, were soon after revived ; as some of his soldiers 
came to inform him, that they had discovered footsteps which led 
up to the rock ; by following which, they supposed the capitol 
might be surprised. Accordingly, a chosen body of men were 
ordered, by night, upon this dangerous service; which they 
i with great difficulty and labour almost efl^ected. They are now 
on the very wall! — the Roman centmel is fast asleep! the dogs 
within give no signal, and all things promise an instant victory! 
But, by the gabbling of some sacred geese, which bad been 



HISTORY OF ROME. 55 

kept in the temple of Juno, the garrison are roused ! The be- 
sieged soon perceive the imminence of their danger, and each, 
snatching the weapon he can soonest find, flies to oppose the 
assailants. Manlius, a patrician of acknowledged bravery, is 
the first who exerts all his strength, and inspires courage by his 
example. He boldly mounts the rampart, and, at one effort, 
throws two Gauls headlong down the precipice: others soon 
come to his assistance, and the walls are cleared of the enemy, 
in a space of time shorter than that employed in the recital. 

From this forward, the hopes of the barbarians began to de- 
cline, and Brennus wished for an opportunity of raising the 
siege with credit. His soldiers had frequent conferences with 
the besieged, whilst on duty; and proposals for an accommoda- 
tion were desired bj the common men, before the chiefs thought 
of conferring. At length, the commanders on both sides came 
to an agreement, that the Gauls, immediately on being paid 
one-thousand pounds weight of gold, should quit the city and 
territories of Rome. This agreement being confirmed, on 
each side, by oath, the gold was brought forth: but, upon 
weighing it, the Gauls fraudulently attempted to kick the beam; 
of which, the Romans complaining, Brennus insultingly cast 
his sword and belt into the scale, crying out, that the only por- 
tion of the vanquished was to suffer. By this reply, the Ro- 
mans saw that they were at the victor's mercy, and knew that 
it was in vain to expostulate against any conditions which he 
should be pleased to impose. But, in this very juncture, and 
whilst thus debating upon the payment, they learned that 
Camillus, their old general, was at the head of a large army, 
hastening to their relief, and then entering the gates of Rome. 
Camillus actually appeared soon after; and, having reached 
the place of controversy, with the air of one who was resolved 
not to suffer imposition, demanded the cause of the contest. 
Being informed of it, he ordered the gold to be carried back to 
the capitol ; ^* For it has always been," cried he, '^ the manner 
of us Romans, to ransom our country, not with gold, but with 
iron : it is I alone that am to make peace, as being the dictator 
of Rome; and my sword only shall purchase it." Upon this, 
a battle ensued, in which the Gauls were entirely routed ; and 
so great a slaughter followed, that the Roman territories were 
soon cleared of their formidable invaders. 

All the city, except the capitol, being one continued heap of 
ruins, and the greater number of its former inhabitants having 
gone- to take refuge in Veii, the tribunes of the people urged 
for the removal of the poor remains of Rome to that city, where 



56 HISTORY OF ROME. 

they might have houses to shelter, and walls to defend them*. 
On this occasion, Camillus, by all the arts of persuasion, at- 
tempted to appease them ; observing, that it was unworthy of 
them, both as Romans, and as men, to desert the venerable 
seats of their ancestors, where 'they had been encouraged by 
repeated marks of divine approbation, to remove to, and inhabit 
a city which they had conquered, and which wanted even the 
good fortune of defending itself. By these, and similar re- 
monstrances, he prevailed upon the people to go contentedly 
to work; and Rome soon began to rise from its ashes. 

We have already seen the bravery of Manlius, in defending 
the capitol, and saving the last remains of Rome. For this, 
the people' were by no means ungrateful ; having built him a 
house, near the place where his valour was so conspicuous, 
and apj)ointed him a public fund for his support. But he as- 
pired at being not only equal to Camillus, but also sovereign of 
Rome. With this view, he laboured to ingratiate himself with 
the populace, paid their debts, and railed ^t the patricians, 
whom he called their oppressors. . The senate was not ignorant 
oPhis discourses or his designs, and, with a view of curbing his 
ambition, created Cornelius Cossus, dictator. He soon finish- 
ed his expedition against the Yolscians, by a vicjfe^ry ; and upon 
his return, called Manlius to account for his conduct. Manlius, 
however, was too much the darling of»the pec^le, to be affected 
by the power of Cossus, who was obliged^ to lay down his of- 
fice ; and the former was carried from his confinement, in tri- 
umph through the city. This success served only to inflame \ 
his ambition. He now began to talk of a division of the lands 
amongst the people ; insinuated that there should be no dis- 
tinctions in the state ; and, to give weight to his discourses, 
always- appeared at the head of a large body of the dregs of the 
])opulace, whom his largesses had made his followers. The 
city being thus filled with sedition and clamour, the senate had 
recourse to another expedient; which was to oppose the power 
of Camillus to that of the demagogue. Camillus, accordingly, 
b 3ing made one of the military tribunes, appointed Manlius a 
day, to answer for his life. The place in which he was tried 
was near the capitol, to which, when he was accused of sedition, 
and aspiring at sovereignty, he turned his eyes, and pointing 
thither, put them ius mind of what he had there done for his 
country. The multitude, whose compassion, or whose justice,! 
•^'seldom springs from rational motives, refused to condemn himj 
whilst he pleaded in sight of •the capitol; but when h^was^ 
brought thence to the Peteline grove, and where the capitol 



^HISTORY OF ROME. 57 

was no longer to be seen, they sentenced him to be thrown 
headlong from the Tarpeian rock. Thus, the place which had 
been the theatre of his glory, became that pf his punishment 
and infamy. His house, in which the conspiracies had been 
carried on, was ordeied to be razed to the ground, and his 
family were forbiddej/ever after to assume the name of ManhjtHB. 
In this manner, the Romans went gradually forward^yj^mh a 
mixture of turbulence and superstition within their^walls, and 
successful ent'crprises without. With what implicit obedience, 
they submitted to their pontiffs, we have already seen^ in many 
instances ; and how far they mighi be impelled, even to en- 
counter death itself at their c^^mand, will evidently appear 
from the behaviour of Curtius, about this time. This heroic 
man, on the opening of a gulf in the forum, whi#h the augurs 
affirrned would never close up, until the most precious things 
in Rome were thrown into it, leaped with his horse and armour 
boldly into the midst, crying out, that nothing was more truly 
valyable than ''patriotism ahd military virtue. The gulf, say 
the historians, clcj^sed immediately, and Curtius was seen no 
more. * 



•CHAPTER Xm. * 

Including tfte wars with the SamniteSj and the ivars ivith 

Pyrrhus. 

The Romans having now triumphed over the Sabines, Jhe 
Etrurians, the Latins, the Hernici, the iEqui, and the Volsci, 
began to look for greater conquests. They accordingly turned 
their arms against the Samnitej^, a people about a hundred 
miles east of the city, who were/^d&(jen4ed from the SabinSs, 
and inhabited a large tract of soffthernTtaly, which, at this day, 
makes a considerable part of the kingdom of Naples. Valerius 
Corvus and Cornehus were the two consuls, to whose care it 
first fell to manage this dreadful contention between the rival 
states. . "• m 

Valerius was one of the greatest commanders of his-^time: 
he was sumamed Corvus from a strange circumstance oT hav- 
ing been assisted by a crow in a single combat, in whic^-^ lie 
fought and killed a Gaul of|igantic stature* To his colleague's 
cue, was consigned the l^gMfeg of an* army to Samnium, th'*^; 
enemy's capital; ^hilst Corvus was sent to relieye Capua, dfe'* 
capital of the XJampania^s. Never \^ a captain more fitftd 
for the command. To 'a habit, na4;urally robust and athleticj 






58 HISTORY OF • ROME.^ 

he joined the gentlest manners : he was the fiercest, and yet ^^^^i 
the best tempered man, in the army; and, though the lowest ' 
centinel was his companion, no man kept the soldiery more 
strictly to their duty: but, what completes his character, is, that/ 
he constantly endeavoured to preserve his dignities by the same 
arts by which he gained them. Such soldiers as the Romans 
then were, hardened by their late adversity, and led on by such 
a general, were invincible. The Samnites were the bravest 
men they had ever yet encountered ; and the contention be- 
tween the two nations was carried on, by both sides, with the 
most determined resolution. But the fortune of Rome pre- 
vailed: the Samnites at length fled; averring that they were 
unable to wit^«*and the fierce looks and fire-darting eyes of 
the Ro i» The other consul was not at first so successful. 

Hay* ,iily led his army into a defile, he was in danger 

^ cut ofi", had not Decius, a tribune of the army, taken 
possession of a hill, which commanded the enemy ; so that the 
Samnites, being attacked on all sidef , were defeated with great 
slaughter; no less than thirty-thousand of them being left dead 
on the field of battle. ' • uf- 

Sometime after this victory, the soldiers who were stationed 
at Capua, having mutinied, forced Quintius, an old and eminent 
soldier who was then residing in the country, to be their 
leader; t and, conducted by their rage, rather than by their 
general, came within eight miles of the city. So terrible an 
enemy, almost at their gates, not a little alarmed the senate, 
who immediately created Valerius Corvus, dictator, and sent 
hiiti*forlh,with anotlier army, to oppose them.^^ The two armies 
were, now drawn up against each other*;- whilst fathers and 
sons beheld themselves prepared to engage in opposite causes. 
Any other general than Corvus, would perhaps have brought 
this civil war to an extremity :%but he, knowing his influence 
•with the soldiery, instead of going forward to meet the muti- 
neers in a>hostile manner, went, with the most cordial iriend- 
ship, to .embrace and expostulate with his old acquaintances. 
His conduct jjiad the desired effect. Quintius,jLs their speaker, 
only desired to have the defection from their duty forgiven ; 
but, a? for himself, being innocent of the conspiracy, he had 
committed no oflTence, he said, for which to solicit pardon. Thus^,^-^ 
this insubordination, which at first placed the city in so much 
danger, was repaired by the prudence and moderation of a 
general, whose ambition was, to* be gentle to his friends, and- 
formidable only to his enemies. 
♦ A war between the Romans and the Latins followed soon 



i^Pi^- ^» 



4 ^•^^ l'« 

STORY OF ROME ^^ 

afterwards; but, as their clothing, their arms, and their ^"** 
guage were ahke, the most exact discipUne was necessary, tS 
prevent confusion in the engagement, t Orders were therefore 
issued by Manhus, the consul, that no soldier, upon any pro- 
vocation whatever, should leave his ranks ; and that he who 
would offer to disobey, should be put to death. . These in- 
junctions being given, both armies were drawn out in array, 
and ready to begin ; when Metius, the general of the enemy's 
cavalry, advanced from his lines, and challenged any knight in 
the Roman army, to single combat. For some time, there was 
a general pause; no soldier daring to disobey his orders : then, 
Titus Manlius, the consul's own son, burning with shame to see 
the whole body of the Romans intimidated, boldly singled out 
against his adversary. The soldiers, on both sides, for a while 
suspended the general engagement, to be spectators of this fierce 
encounter. The two champi<f[is drove their horses against 
each other with great violence : Metius wounded his adversary's 
in the neck ; but Manlius, with better fortune, killed the horse 
of Metius. The Latin, having thus fallen to the ground, at- 
tempted to support himself upon his shield; but the Ripman 
repeated his blows, with so much force, that, as he was en- 
deavouring to rise, he laid him dead : then, despoiling him of 
his armour, he returned in triumph to the tent of the consul, 
his. father, who was there preparing and giving orders relative 
to the engagement. Notwithstanding the applause which was 
given him by his fellow soldiers, being as yet doubtful of the 
reception he might find from his father, he came with hesitation 
to lay the enemy's spoils at his feet; and, with a modest air, 
insinuated, that what he had done^^^^ntirely from a spirit of 
hereditar^^ virtue. But he was soon made dreadfully sensible 
of his error, when his father, turning away, ordered him to be 
led publicly forth before the army ; where, the consul, with a 
stern countenance, and yet with tears, spoke as follows. 
" Titus Manlius, as thou hast regarded neither the dignity of 
the consulship, nor the command of thy father; a^thou hast 
destroyed military discipline, and set a pattern of disobedience 
by thy example, thou hast reduced me to the deplorable ex- 
tremity of sacrificing my son, or my country : but let us not 
hesitate, in this dreadful alternative; a thousand lives would be ^ 
well lost, in such a cause; nor do I think that thou thyself wilt 
rduse to |ii^ w^hen thy country is to reap the advantage of thy 
sufferings; Go, lictor, bind him ; and let his death be our fu- 
ture example." The whole army were struck with horror at 
this unnatural mandate : fear for a while kept them in suspense ; 



58 ^ 

HISTORY OF ROME. 

he joi . , t ry 

the b*^^®^ ^^®y ^^w t^^i^ young champion's head struck off, 
and his blood streaming on the ground, they could no longer 
contain their execration*, and their groans. • His dead body 
was conveyed without the camp, and, being adorned with the 
spoils of the vanquished enemy, was buried with all the pomp 
of military distress. 

In the mean time, the battle joined with mutual fury; and, 
as the two armies had often fought under the same leaders, 
they combated with all the animosity of civil war. The Latins 
depended chiefly on their bodily strength: the Romans, on their 
invincible courage and conduct. Forces so nearly matched, 
seemed only to require the protection of their deities, to turn 
the scale of victory ; and the augurs had foretold that the com- 
mander of that part of the Roman army which might be dis- 
tressed, should devote himself for his country, and die as a 
sacrifice to the immortal gods. #Manlius commanded the right 
wing, and Decius the left. The courage of both sides being 
equal, they fought for some time with equal success; but 
eventually, the left wing of the Roman army began to give 
way. •Then, Decius, its commander, resolved to devote him- 
self fSt-his (^niry, and te offer his own life, to save his army.^^ 
Thus determined,' he caHed out in a loud voice to Manlius, 
who was- -jthe ^^tsi^f pontiff, demanding instructions how he 
should d^dle hi^n^elf, and the form of the words lie should '• 
use. fii^4iis dh^eclions, therefore, clothed in a long robe, his 
head cove^^ed? and liis arms stretched forward, standing upon 
a javelin, he^evo'fed himself to the celestial and infernal gods, 
for the safety of Rome. Then, arming himself, and mounting 
on horseback, he drove furiously into the midst of the enemy, 
carrying terror anci consternation wherever he came,*until he 
fell covered with wounds. In the mean time, the Roman y 
army considered his devoting himself in this manner, as an /y^ 
assurance of access ; rior was the superstition of the Latins / 
less powerfully influenced by his resolution : a total rout began 
to ensue ;%the Romans pressed them on every side, and so ^^ 
great was the carnage, that scarcely a fourth part of the enemy / 
survived the defeat. This was the last battle of importance, < 
^ught between the Ltatins and the Romans : they were forced 
,to beg S peace, on hard conditions ;% and, two years afterwards, 
their strongest city, Paedum, being taken, they were brought 
under an entire submission to the Roman power. ^ % ^ - • . 
jT p A signal disgrace, suffered by the RomaHS^Uoutthis 

*oi ' time, in their contests with the Samnitee,- interrupted 
their usual good fortune, and, for a while, turned the 



HISTORY OF ROME. 61 

scale in favour of the enemy. The senate having denied that 
people a peace, Pontius, their general, was resolved to gain by 
stratagem, what he had frequently attempted by force. Ac- 
cordingly, leading his army into a defile, called Claudium, and 
taking possession of all its outlets, he sent ten of his men, 
habited as shepherds, with directions to throw themselves in 
the way of the Romans. Exactly to his wish, the Roman 
consul met them ; and, supposing them to be what they ap- 
peared, demanded the route taken by the Samnite army. They, 
with seeming indifference, replied, that they were gone to Lu- 
ceria, a town in Apulia, which they were then besieging. The 
Roman general, not having the least idea of the stratagem, 
arched on, by the shortest road, through the defiles, to re- 
ive the city; unconscious of his danger, until he saw his 
my surrounded by the enemy. « Pontius, thus having the Ro- 
IS entirely in his power, obliged their army to pass under j 
the yoke; they having been previously stripped of all but their 
garments : he then stipulated that they should entirely evacu- 
ate the'territories of the Samnites, and that they should in fu- 
ture observe the terms of the former confederacy.* The Ro- 
'^nians were constrained to submit to this ignominious treaty, 
and marched into Capua, .disarmed, almost without clothing, 
and burning witli a desire of retrieving their lost honour. When 
,. Hhe army arrived at Rome, all were extremely afflicted at their 
shameful return: the whole city was put into mourning, and 
nothing could be seen but grief and resentment. 

But this calamity was only transitory. The state had suffer- 
ed a diminution of its glory, though not of its power. The 
war was carried on as usual for many years : the strength of 
the Samnites ev^ry day declining, whilst that of the* Romans 
gained a fresh accession from every victory. Under the con- 
duct of Pajfyrius Cursor, who was at different times consul and 
dictator,^ they gained repeated triumphs. Fabius Maximus, 
also, had a share in the glory of conquering them ; and Decius, 
the son of that Decius whom we saw devotii|g himself for his 
country about forty years before,, ibTlo wed tire example of his 
noble father, and, rushing intotne midst of the enemy, saved 
the lives of his countrynten, by theK>s|^of his own. 

The Samnites were dnven% extr^B dibi:ress. Unable. to 
defend themselves, they were obliged TfiLJftall in the assistance^ 
of a foreign power; and had recourse to Pyrrhus, king of\ 
Epirus, tcjsave them from impending ruin. Pyrrhus, a mail 
of great power, courage, and ambition, having always retained 
Uj^^example of his great predecessor, Alexander, promised to 




62 HISTORY OF ROME. 

go to their assistance. In the mean time, he despiaftched over \ 
a body of three thousand men, under the command of Cineas, ; 
an experienced soldier, and a scholar of the great orator, De- I 
mosthenes. Nor did he himself long remain behind, but soon 1 
after embarked with three-thousand horse, twenty-thousand 
foot, and twenty elephants, in which, the commanders of that 
time began to place very great confidence. However, only a 
small part of these great preparations arrived with him in Italy : 
many of his ships were dispersed, and some totally lost, in a 
tempest. On his reaching Tarentum, his first care was to re- - 
form the people whom he had come to succour. Observing a . 
total dissolution of manners in this city, and that the inhabitanjbs^^ 
were occupied more with the pleasures of bathing, feasting, anil^B 
dancing, than in preparations for war, he gave orders to have 
all their places of public entertainment shut up, and to rest 
them from all those amusements which render soldiers uiii 
for battle. The Romans did all that prudence could suggest, 
to oppose so formidable an enemy; and the consul Laevinus ^ 
was sent, with a numerous army, to interrupt his progress. 
Pyrrhus, though his whole force had not yet arrived, drew out 
to meet him; \fnt previously, sent an ambassador, desiring per^ . 
mission to mediate between the Bomans and the people of 
Tarentum. To this, Lsevinus returned an answer, saying, that 
he neither esteemed him as a mediator, nor feared him as an- 
enemy; and then, leading the ambassador through the Roman 
<cai«p; requested him to observe diligently what he n^%v,^ and 
report the result to hjs master. In consequence of this, both 
armies approached, and pitched^ their tents in sight of each 
other, upon opposite banks x)f. the river •Jtyris. • Pyrrhu^ was 
always extremely cureful in d^ecting the siti^tion of his own 
camp, and observing that of the enemy. When walking along- 
the banks of the ri^^er, and sitrveying the Roman method -on • 
encamping, he was heard to observe, '• These barbariS^is seem 
to be in no wa^y barbarous; and I shall too soon find then* ac- 
tions equal to th^ir resolution." In the mean time, ordering a 
body of men along the banks, he placed them in readiness to- 
oppose the Romans, in case they "attempted to ford the river, 
before all his forces were collected.! The event justified his 
expectations. The consul, witli an impetuosity that marked 
his inexperience, gave orders for passing the river, where k 
was fordable ; and the advanced guard, having in vain attempted i 
to oppose him, was obliged to retire to the main body! Pyrrhus, 
being apprized of the enemy's attempt, at first hoped to cut off 
Iheir cavalry, before they could be reinforced by the foot, wjh 



HISTORY OF ROME. 63 

had not as yet passed over; and, in person, led on a chosen 
body of horse against them. The Roman legions having with 
much difficulty crossed over, the engagement became general. 
The Greeks fought with a consciousness of their former fame ; 
the Romans, with a desire of gaining fresh glory. The com- 
bat was long in suspense : the Romans had seven times -re- 
pulsed the enemy, and were themselves as often driven back; 
but, at length, whilst the success seemed doubtful, Pyrrhus 
sent his elephants into the midst of the engagement, and these 
turned the scale of victory in his favour. A The Romans, who 
had never before seen creatures of so great magnitude, were 
terrified, not only by their intrepid fierceness, but also by the 
castles, filled with armed men, built upon their backs. Tl>en, 
Pyrrhus saw that the day was his own; and, sending in m^f 
Thessalian cavalry, to charge the disordered enemy, thfe rout 
became general.*4A dreadful slaughter of the E^omans ensued: 
fifteen-thousand men were killed on the spot, and eighteen- \ 
hundred takefn prisoners. Nor were the c onqu erors in a much 
better state, than the vanquished; Pyrrhus MHifeMDeing wound- 
ed, and thirt^gS^-thousand of his forces slain. J The approach 
of night, put ^rltop to the slaughter, on .both ^ides, and Pyrrhus 
was heard to cr0out, that one such/ victory more would ruin 
his whole army. The next day, a^e was surveying the field 
of battle^, he could not help regarding with admiration, the - 
bodies of the Romans who were slain. / On seeing tliem all ^ 
with their wounds before, their countefnancQS, even in death, 
markfti with a noble resolution and a sternness that awed him 
into respect, he w£L|| heard to exclaim, in the true spirit of a 
military adventurer, " 0, with whaf ease could I conquer the/|j|, 
world, had I the Romans for soldiers, or had they me for theii ^ 
king!" */ff/i*« 

Mankind had never before seen two armies so different in 
discipline, opposed to each other ; nor is it, ^|^feM:(^ this day 
determined, whether the Gre^ phalanx or tiBKoman legion 
was preferable. '^ 

Pyrrhus, after this victo^, was still unwilling to drive them 
to an extremity; and considering that it is easier to treat with * | 
an enemy when humbled<fie resolved to send his friend Cineas, • 
tl^^rator, to negotiate a peace. He often asserted that he 
UpTgained more towns by the eloquence of Cineas, than by 
his' own arms: however, with all his art, he was incapable of 
seducing the J^^mans, either by bribery, or by private or public 
persuasion. ^^ 

Being frustmted in his expectations, he returned to his 



64 HISTORY OF ROME. 

master, extolling both the virtues and the grandeur of the 
Romans. The senate, he said, appeared a reverend assembly 
of demi-gods ; and the city, a temple for their reception. Of 
this, Pyrrhus soon afterwards became sensible, by an embassy 
from Rome, concerning the ransom and exchange of prisoners. 
At the head of this venerable deputation, was Fabricius, an an- 
cient senator, who had long been a pattern to his countrymen, 
of extreme poverty, united, with the most cheeiful content 
Pyrrhus received this old man with great kindness ;|and, wish 
ing to ascertain the correctness of report, offered: him rich 
presents, which, however, the Roman refused. The next day, 
he was desirous of trying his temper also, and ordered one of 
his elephants to be placed behind the tapestry ; which, upon a 
given signal, raised its trunk above the ambassador's head, at 
the same time using other tricks to intimidate him.\ But Fa- 
bricius, with a countenance unaltered, smiled upon the king; 
observing, that he was as indifferent to the terrors of that day, 
as to the allurements of the preceding. Pyrrhu^ pleased to 
find so much virtue in one he had considered as a barbman, 
was willing to grant him the^nly favour whicttAe kne^^^ould 
make him happy :Jhe releasedT the Roman priSmlRgS, entrusting 
them to Fabricius alcsfie; on his promise, tlj^, if the senate 
were determined to continue the war, he might reclaim tjiei 
whenever he should think proper.- . 

jj p By this time, the Roman arni}^ Bad recovered from 
.L. " its late defe£||^ and Sulpicius and ^ecius^!lhe consuls 



for the following year, were placed at its ,3iead.^ 1^^ 
panic, hitherto caused by the elephants, nojv^ began to subside^ 
and both armies met near the city of Asttlum ; "^nearly equal 
in number, each being about forty-thousand strong. But now 
again, after a long and, obstinate battle, the Grecian discipline 
prevailed, n The Romans, being pressed on every side, par- 
ticularly by the elephants, v/ere obUged to retire to the camp, 
leaving six-thousand men dead upon the field. But the enemy 
had no great reason to boast of their triumph, as they had four- 
thousand killed ; so that Pyrrhus replied to one of his soldiers, 
who was congratulating him on the victory, ^* Another victory 
like this, and I am undone." 

This battle ended the campaign. ^^ 

The next season commenced with equal vigour, Qft I^Bi 
sides; Pyrrhus having received reinforcements, from h«me. 
Whilst the two armies were approaching, and^^^only a small 
distance from each other, a letter was brought IWld Fabricius, 
the^Roman general, from the king's physician ;* importing that 



HISTORY OF ROME. 65 

for a proper reward, he would take him off by poison, and thus 
rid the Romans of a fonnidahle enemy, and a dangerous war. 
At this proposal, Fabricius felt all that honest indignation 
which was consistent with his character: he communicated it 
to his colleague, and instantly gave it as his opinion, that 
Pyrd^ should be informed of so treacherous a design, Ac- 
cordi^y, letters were despatched for that purpose, informing 
him b^TOie affair, and alluding to the unfortunate choice of his 
friends and his enemies; in having trusted and promoted mur- 
derers, whilst he carried his resentment against the generous 
and brave, j Pyrrhus, now concluding that those bold barba- 
rians, (as he called them,) were gradually taught refinement, 
and that they would not suffer him to be their superior, even 
in generosity, received their message, with as much amazement 
at their candour, as indignation at his physician's treachery. 
*' Admirable Fabrifcius!" cried he, "it would be as easy to 
turn the sun from his course, as thee from the f aths of hon- 
oui;<?' Then, making the proper enquiry among^his servants, 
and being convinced of the treason, he ordered nis physician 
to be executed. However, not to be outdone in magnanimity, 
. he immediately released all his prisoners, without ransom, and 
desired to negotiate a peace. The Romans, on the other hand, 
refused to treat, except on the same conditions which they had 
before offered. 

After an interval of two years, Pyrrhus, having increased his 
army by new levies, sent one division to oppose the march of 
Lentulus, the Roi^jjfn * consul ; whilst he himself maiched to 
attack Curius Dentatus, the other in command, before his col- 
league could arrive. ^ " ^ ^ 

His principal aim was to surprise the enemy ])y night ; but, 
unfortunately, passing through woods, and his lights faiUng 
him, his men lost their way; so that, on the approach of morn- 
ing^ he found himself in sight of the Roman camp, with the 
enemy drawn out ready to receive him.^ The vanguard of 
both armies soon met, and the Romans had the a(l\^antage. 
Soon afterwards a general engagement ensued, and Pyrrhus, 
seeing the balance of victory still inclining against liim, had, 
d|fe more, recourse to his elenhants. But the Romans wero 
N^ too well acquainted with these animals, to feel from them 
unnecessary terror ; i and, having found that fire was the most 
effectual means of repelling them, they made a quantity of 
Iballs, composed of flax and iron, which were thrown against 
them, as they approached the ranks. The elephants, rendered 
furious by n flame, and as boldly opposed by the soldiers, 

M F 2 



66 HISTORY OF HOME. 

could no longer be brought on ; but ran back upon their own 
army, bearing down the ranks, and spreading general terror and 
confusion. Thus, victory at length declared in favour of Roj^ae. 
Pyrrhus in v«ain attempted to stop the flight and slaughter of 
his troops. He lost not only twenty-three thousand of his 
best soldiers, but also his camp. | This served as a ne^^sson 
to the Romans, who were always open to improvemei^^They 
had formerly pitched their tents without order ; bu^by the . 
present capture, they 'were taught to measure their ground, 
and fortify it by a trench ; so that many of their succeeding 
victories are to be ascribed to their improved* method of en-, 
camping. ^ 

Pyrrhus, now finding all his hopes fruitless, i?e§pJfed to leave 
Italy, where he found only desperate eneny«te, amd faithless 
alhes: accordingly, calling together the Tarentines, he in- • 
foi-med them that he had received from Greece assurance of 
speedy assistgince; and desired them to wait the eventfwith 
tranquillity. The night following, he embarked*his troops^ and 
returned undisturbed into his native kingdom, with the remains 
of his shattered forces ; leaving in Tarentum a garrisd%, merelyv 
' -for appearance. 

In this manner, ended the war with Pyrrhus, afte^ six years 
continuance. '' * 

The poor luisurip^. Tarentines, the original pron^oters of 
this war, soon found a worse enemy in the garrison left for 
their defence, than in the Romans who attacked them without. 
The hatred between them and Milo, v/l(ff^ commanded their 
.citadel for Pyrrhus, had become so great, that nothing could 
^equal it, except thelf^S? of their invetei^te enemies, the Ronmns. 
In this distress, ihej^applied to the Carthaginians, who, with a 
large fleet came and blocked up the port of Tarentum ; so that 
this unfortunate people, once famous throughout Italy for their 
pleasures and refinements, now saw themselves contended for 
by three different enemies, without even the choice of a con- 
queror. \ At length, the Romans found means touring over 
the garrison to their inten'est ; after which, they easily became 
masters of the city, and demolished its walls, granting the in- 
habitants liberty and protection. ^B 



A^^&' 



^^ 



HISTORY OF ROME. 67 



CHAPTER XIV. 

Fhc First Punic tvar^ when the Romans first went out of Italy ^ 
^ and began to grow powerful by sea. 

Ij p The Romans, having destroyed all rival pretensions 
. ' / artwfme, were now eager to extend their conquests into 
foreigri countries. The Carthaginians were at that 
time in pps^ssion of the greatest part of Sicily; and, like the 
Romans, oijly wanted an opportunity of embroiling the natives, 
in order tg« become masters of the whole island. The oppor- 
tunity at lengtM^fTered. • Hiero, king of Syracuse, a Sicilian 
state as vet unconquered, having entreated aid from the Caj^ 
thaginiaps, against the Mamertines, a petty nation of the same 
country^, they sent him supplies, both by sea and land. The 
Mamertines, on their part, to shield off impending danger, put 
themselj^es under the protection of Rome. The Romans, de- 
spising^ them as allies, instead of professing to assist them, 
boldly decfereS war against Carthage; alleging, as £p reason, 
th^^ssi|tence'laj}ely sent by that city to the southern parts of 

^Italy, a^Hnst l^me. In this manner, a war was declared be- 
tween these two powerful states, both grown too^grejt to re- 
main patieiit spectators of each other's increa^. m 

Carthage, a Phoenician colony^ was built ori* the coast of 
Africa, (near the*place where Tunis now slSnds,) about one- 
hundred-and-thirty-seven years. before the foundation of Q^ome. 
As it had been gradually rising into power, so it had extended 
its dominion allalong the coast. But its chief stwngth con- 
sisted in its fleets and its commerce. "Shus SirciJnstanced, 
these t\^ great" powers began the first of what are called the 

*" Punigj^ars : the Carthaginians, possessed of gold and silver, 
which might 'Ife exhausted; the Romans, famous. for perse'- 
verance, patriotism, and poverty, whili| appeared to gather 
strength from every defeat. \ 

But there seemed an insurmountable -dlfetacle to the ambition 
of Rome. She had no fleet: at least, no naval force which 
^ deserved that title; whilst Carthage was sovereign of the sea, 
''^nd kept all other maritime towns in obedience. In such a situa- 
tion, any people, except the Romans, would have remained con- 
tented, under disa-dvantages which nature seemed to have im- 
posed: but; nothing >95ulii conquer or intimidate^ them. They 
now appjied themselves to maritime affairs ; and, though with- 
out shipwrights to build, or Seamen to navigate a fleet, they re- 



68 HISTORY OF ROME. ': \ 

solved to surmount every obstacle with inflexible perseverance. 
A Carthaginian vessel which happened, in a storm, to be driven 
ashore, was sufficient for a model. The consul Duillius was 
the first who went to sea with his newly constructed armament; \ 
and, though far inferior to the enemy in the management of his ^ 
fleet, yet he gained the first naval victory ; the Carthaginians 
losing fifty of their ships, and, what they valued more, the un- 
disturbed sovereignty of the sea. • 

But the conquest of Sicily was to be effected only by hum- 
bling the power of Carthage, at home. Accordingly, t^e senate 
resolved to carry the war into Africa itself; and, for that pur- 
pose, deputed Regulus and Manlius, with a fleet of* three-hun- 
dred sail. Regulus was esteemed the most dtosummate war- 
rior that Rome could then produce, and was a professed example 
of frugal severity. His patriotism was still greater than his 
temperance; in him, all the private passions seemed extin- 
guished, or concentrated in one great ruling affection, the love 
of his country. The two generals set sail with one-hundred- 
and-forty-thousand men, in a fleet which was the greatest that 
ever had left an Italian port. They were metl3y the*enemy, 
with a fleet as powerful, and men more inured tc^he^^sea. 
Whilst the fight continued at a distance, rather bdjpen the^j^ ^ 
ships i^n the men, the Carthaginians seemed successful ;Jfeut^ 
when flie Romans came to grapple with them", th^difference 
was apparent, between a mercenary army, and one that fought 
for fame. The resolution of the Romans was triumphant ; 
fifty-four of the enemy's vessels were taken, and the rest of 
the fleet dispersed. The consequence of this victory, was, an 
immediate descent upon the coast of Africa, the capture of the 
city of Clhpeaf, and ^twenty- thousand men who were made pris- 
oners of war. 

The senate, being informed of these great successes, and 
applied to for fresh instructions, recalled ManMus to Italy, in 
order to superintend ii^ Sicilian war ; and directed Regulus to 
continue in Africa, and there prosecute his victories. 

A battle ensued, itl^ which the Carthaginians were once more 
defeated, and some of their best troops cut off. This 
misfortune contributed to throw them into the utmost de 
more than eighty of their towns submitted to the RomanS 
this distress, being destitute of generals at home, they were^ 
obliged to send to Lacedajmon, offering the command of theii 
army to Xantippus, a general of great experience, who under 
took to conduct them. 

Xantippus began by giving the magistrates propeninstructioaa 




\ 



• HISTORY OF ROME. 69 

•for levying the men. He assured them, that their armies were 
hitherto overthrown, not by the strength of the enemy, but by 
the ignorance of their own generals ; he therefore only required 
a ready obedience to his orders, and piiorai«ed them an easy 
victory. \ By the exhortations of^a-^rigle^stranger, the whole 
city seemed once more revived from despondency; and from 
hope, soon acquired confidence. ,This was the spirit which 
the Grecian general wished to excij^; and when he saw them 
thus ripe for the engagement, he joyfully took the field. The 
Lacedaemonian made the most skilfwl disj^osition of his forces: 
he placed his cavalry in the wings ; he stationed elephants at 
proper intervals behind the line of tlie heavy armed infantry; 
and, bringing up the light armed troops in front, he ordered 
them to retire through the line of infantry, after they had 
discharged their weapons. At length, both armies having en- 
gaged, the Romans^ after a long and obstinate resistance, were 
overthrown wiCh dreadful slaughter ; the greatest part of their 
army being destroyed, and Regulus himself taken prisoner. 
Several other disasters soon afterwards followed: they lost 
their fleet in a storm; and Agrigentum, their principal town in 
Sicily, ^^ taken by the Carthaginian general, Carthalo. They 
undertook to build a nev/ fleet, which shared the fate of the 
former. The mariners, as yet unacquainted ^ith the Mediter- 
ranean shores, having driven it upon quicksands, the greater 
part of it p^ished in a storm. 

The Carthaginians, now successful, were again desirous of 
treating for peace; hoping to have better terms, than those in- 
sisted on by Regulus. For this purpose, they supposed, that 
he whom they had, during four years, kept chained in a dun- 
geon, would be a proper solicitor. It was expected, that, being 
wearied with imprisonment and bondage, he would gladly en-^ 
deavour to persuade his countrymen to discontinue a war^ 
which prolonged his captisiPy. He wJpaccordingly sent, with 
their ambassadors, to Rome ; a promise having previously been 
exacted from him, that he would return, in case of being un- 
successful. He was even given to understand, that his life 
depended on the issue of the negotiation. 

When this old general, with the ambassadors of Carthage, 
approached Rome, numbers of his firoads came out to meet 
mxd congratulate him on his return. Their acclamations re- 
sounded through the city; but Regulus, with settled melan- 
choly, refused to ente^ the gates. In vain, was he entreated, 
on every side, to visit, once more, his Httle dwelling, and share 
in that joy which his leturn had inspired : he persisted in say^* 



70 HISTORY OF ROME • 

ing, that he was now only a slave ' belonging to the Carthagi-.j^ 
nians, and unfit to partake of the liberal honours of his country^ » 
The senate having^assembled ou.tside of the walls, as usual, 
to give audience to^egambass^^dors, Regulus opened his com- 
mission, as he had Men dUedled by the Carthaginian council j^ 
and their ambassadors seconded hi^ proposals. The senate 
themselves were by thi^jji^e weary of a war, which had been - 
protracted above .eight y^»; akii3 had no aversion to a peace* ^^ 
It only remained for ^gul^ himself to give his opinion; who, 
when it came to his turn, g^v^e his voice for continuing the waH 
So unexpected an advice not a li^^ disturbed the senate : they 
pitied, as well as admif ed ^ man, who had used so inuch elo- 
quence against his private interest, and they would not con- 
clude upon a measure which wa« J,o terminate in his ruin. But 
he soon relieved their embarrassment, by breaking off the 
treaty, and rising to return to his bonds andT confinement. It 
was in vain that the senate and his dearest friends, entreated 
him to stay: he still opposed tj^eir solicitations. Marcia, his 
wife, and his little childrerf, filled ^fe city with their lamenta- 
tions, and in vain entreated pefmission to see him : he still ob- * ,^ 
stinately persisted in adhering to his promise ; anip though 
sufficiently apprized of the tortures which awaitecb^his returti, 
without embracing* his family, or taking leave of his friends, he 
departed, with the ambassadors, for Carthage. , 

Nothing could equal tl^e fury and disappointment of the 
Carthaginians, when informed, by their ambassadors, that Reg- 
ulus, instead of advocating a peace, jjad given his opinion for 
continuing the war. They accordingly prepared to inflict upon 
him, the severest tortures. First, his eyehds w^re cut off, and 
then he was remanded to prison. After some days, he was again 
brought out, and exposed with his face turned towards the , 
burning sun. At last, when malice was fatigued with studying^ 
all the arts of torture jjle was pla<^ in a barrel, driven full of 
nails, pointing inwards; and in this painful situation he con- 
tinued, until he died. , ^ ^ /* 

Both sides now took up arnis, with more t^an former ani- 
mosity. At length, the prers.everance of the Romans waif 
crowned with success : jme victory succeeded another. * Their 
naval superiority was aPRn displayed, m the defeat of a large 
squadron of the enemy. In^at battle, FaM»g Buteo, the 
consul, had the command; but Liitatius Catulus gained a vic- 
tory, still more complete ; having captijred, according to the 
smallest computation, one-hundred-and-twenty shipS; by which, 
the maritiine power of Carthage seemed totally destroyed. This 



/ h'> 



HISTORY OF ROME. ' 71 

loss induced the Carthaginians to sue for peape; which Rome 
, thought proper to grant: but, still iliflexible in her demands^ 
she exacted the same conditions which Regulus had formerly 
offered at the gates of Carthage. These were, that they should 
^pay a thousand talents of silver, then, tp defray the charges of 
the war;^ and should gv^, in ten years, two-thousand-two- 
hundred more : that they should evacuate Sicily, and the ad- 
jacent islands: that they should' never metke war against the 
allies of Rome, or enter with any vessels of war within the 
Yj Q Roman waiters ;' and lastly , that they should deltY.er up 
^lo ' all their prisoners and deserters ^ithout ransom. To 
, ^ \ tiies^ hard conditions, the Carthaginians, now exhausted, 
adily ^ulJ^ibed ; and thus ended the ifirst Punic war, which 
d lasted twenty-four years, and in some measure had dramed 
oth nations of every resource to begin another*-^**** ■ 



•^ DO 



''^ThAPTER XV. 

From the end of the first Punic war^ to the end of the second. 

/SMUPouNb peace, between tjie Carthag^nmns and tlie Rq- ^ 
nlan^now ensued, and in about^six years afterwards, the Tem- 
pl^f Janus jvvas ^hut ; being the second time since the foun- 
4|^ion of the city, '^le Romdiis, 1%is in fridlfelship with all*,#^ 
nation^ iiwjtt aji^ opportunity of cultivating the arts of peace": 
^they now begWjto have a relish for poetry, which, in. every 
ci^^ilizeff^ation^Sfthe firstrliberal art i;hat rises, ancTttte first ^ 
also, tliat (lr( ;i\ ./w Hitherto, they had been ^ntertai^jed only 
by the rude drolleries of their lowest buffoons :, theyjiad sports ' 
called l^escenliini, in i^ich a few debauched actors%iade thgk 
own^j^ts; whilst rulllerv ^d ob^jjpnity supplied the place ot 
humMr. To t k >' . sjjlb^died a composition Jff a higlier kind, 
call^sd satire^ v.i)i< h wujg a species of dramatic poem, in^wj^h 
^the cjfaracters oi ti^^ great were pailiculdrly pointed at, and^^^ 
"^ ttade objects of^ derision tp the vulgarjf After these, "came tra-^^| 
[edr and comeSy,^^Alfeh w<ere borrowed from the Greek; in^ ^ 
li^eA^ the first dramatic po^t of Riof^, \^hose name was Livius* "^ 
jf^ p Andronicus, was-tty birth a Grecian. Tlvp instant these 
«^* * fyaer kinds oJh^^^j^^ipo^tion ap^ared, the higfier orders 
* .rejected the former lmpuriti^,^ith disdain. / Thence- 
forward, the Romans laboured aft^r the Grecian model; and, 
though tkey were never ah^lo rival their masters, in dramatic 

^ ■ w 




72 HISTORY OF ROME. 

composition, they soon surpassed them in many of the more 
soothing kinds of poetry. ♦Elegiac, pastoral, and didactic com- 
position, began to assume new beauties in the Roman lan- 
guage ; and satire, not that rude sort of dialogue already men- 
tioned, but a nobler kjj^d invented byXucilius, was all theit 
own, tS ^ * 

Whilst they were thus improving the arts of peace, they 
were not negligent in those'of war : all intervals of ease seemed 
rather to give fresh vigoiir fo^ new designs, than to relax their 
former intrepidity. The Illyrians, after some continuance of 
jj p peace, were '^he first upon whom they tried their 
K* ^ * strength. Tnat nation, which had long plundered fhe 
' merchants of the Mediterranean with injpflnity, hap- 
pened to commit depredations upon some of the kading sulV- 
jects of Roma* A complaint being mad^ to Teuta, their queen, 
she, instead ^ granting redress, order1ill%ie ambassador w lio 
was sent to owand ' restittmon, to be murdered. A war. eijpr; 
sued, in which^e Romans were victories ; most of the Illyrii 
towns were surrendered to tjfe consul^roh a peace was c^ 
cluded^y which the greatest part of the country was ^eded'tii. 
Rome Pa yearly tribute was exacted for the rest, and a prohi- 
bition added, t^^^e Illyrians should not sail beyond the river 
LissuS \^ith mo^Fihan tw6 barks, at one time, and those^ un- 
armed. . ' * . " *> 

The Gauls were the next \^o incurred the displeasure of the 
Romans. Si^Jposing qjlfftieof peace, when the armies were 
disbanded, a proper season for new irrtiptions, that barbarous 
people invited fresh forces from beyond the AlpS, and, entering 
Etruria, wasted all with fire and s\v^rd, until tlieyxame withjn 
about three days journey of Rome. A prsftor a|^d a consul 
were sent to oppose them ; and, being now instructed in the 
improved arts of war, they were enabled<to sun'dtmd the Gauls, 
wfio still retained their primi?val barbarity^ It was in vain that 
these hardy tro^s, who had nothiflg bUL their courage to pro- 
tecj^them, forniea two fronts to repel tneir adversaries; their 
naked and* undiJciplined forces were unable to withstand**!!!© 
shock of an enemy completely armed, and skilled in military 
evolutions. A miserable slaughter ensued, in which forty- 
thousand were killed: ten-thousand were also made prisoners. 
'. This victory ^as followed b^ another, gained over thein by 
Marcellus*; in which, h* killcfrVeridomarus, their kjng, widi 
his own hand, and acqiiHed the third royal spoils that h^d ym 
been obtained by the Romans. These conquests forced the 
Gaula tjH^eg a peace, the conditi^o^of which served greatly 



I 



HISTORY OF ROME. 73 

to enrich the empire. The Romans were now invariably suc- 
cessful ; and, having totally recovered their former losses, they 
only wanted an enemy, worthy of their arms, to provoke another 
war. 

The Carthaginians had made peace, only because they were 
no longer able to continue the war. They therefore took the 
earliest opportunity of breaking the treaty: they besieged Sa- 
guntum, a city of Spain, which was in alliance with Rome ; and, 
though requested to desist, prosecuted their operations with 
vigour. Ambassadors were consequently despatched from 
Rome to Carthage, complaining of this infraction, and requiring 
that Hannibal, the Carthaginian general, who had advised the 
measure, should be delivered up; which being refused, both 
sides prepared for a second Punic war. 

The Carthaginians, on their side, intrusted the management 
to Hannibal, the son of A mile ar. This extraordinary man, 
almost in 4iis infancy wa'fe made to swear perpetual enmity to 
Rome; for, whilst yet^yery young, his father brought him be- 
fore the altar, and obliged him to take an oath, that he never 
would be in friendship with the Romans, nor desist from op- 
posing their power, until he or they should be no more. On 
his first appearance in the field, he displayed/ in his own per- 
son, the most correct method of commanding, with the most 
perfect obedience to his superiors. Thus, he was equally ]^e- 
loved by his generals, and the troops he was appointed to lead. 
He possessed the greatest courage in opposing danger, and 
the greatest presence of mind in retiring from it. No fatigue 
was able to subdue his body, nor any misfortune to break his 
spirit: equally patient of heat and cold, he took sustenance 
only to appease nature, and not to delight his appetite. He 
was the best horseman, and the swiftest runner of his time. 

This great general, who is considered the most skilful of 
antiquity, having over-run all Spain, and levied a large army 
of various languages and nations, resolved to carry the war 
into Italy itself, as the Romans had before carried it into 
the dominions of Carthage. For this purpose, leaving Hanno 
with a sufficient force to guard his conquests in Spain, he 
crossed the J^yrei^n mountains, and entered Gaul, with an 
army of fifty»-thouSaiid foot, and nine-thousand horse. He 
quickly traversed that extensive country, which was then wild, 
aW filled with nations that wer^is declared enemies. In vain, 
its forests and rivers appeared ro intimidate him: in vain, the 
Rhone, wkh its rapid current, and its banks covered with ene- 
mies, or the Dura, branchM out into innumerable channels, 



74 HISTORY OF ROME. 

opposed his way ; by perseverance, he surmounted all, and m 
ten days arrived at the foot of the Alps, over which a new pas- 
sage into Italy was to be explored. It was in the midst of 
winter, that this most astonishing project was undertaken; 
which season added new horror to a scene already crowded, 
by nature, with objects of dismay. The prodigious height, and 
tremendous steepness of the mountains capped with snow ; the 
people, barbarous and fierce, dressed in skins with long and 
rugged hair, presented a picture which impressed the beholders 
with astonishment and terror. But nothing could subdue the 
courage of the Carthaginian general: at the end of fifteen days, 
spent in crossing the Alps, he found himself in the plains of 
Italy. But only half his army remained ; the rest having died 
by cold, or having been cut off by the natives. 

As soon as it was known by the Romans, that Hannibal, at 
the head of an immense army, was crossing the Alps in order 
to invade their dominions, the senate sent Scipio to oppose 
him. He, however, was obliged to retreat, with considerable 
loss. In the mean time, /Hie victorious Hannibal took the 
most prudent precautions to increase his army. He gave orders 
always to spare the possessions of the Gauls, but permission 
to plunder those of Rome; which so pleased that simple peo- 
ple, that they declared for him in great numbers, and flocked 
to his standard with alacrity. ^ 

The second battle was fought upon the banks of the river 
Trebia. The Carthaginian general, having been apprized of 
the Roman impetuosity, (of which he availed himself in almost 
every engagement,) had sent across the river a body of a 
thousand horsemen, each with a foot soldier behind, to ravage 
the territory of the Romans, and provoke them to engage. 
This force quickly retired before the Romans: and, seeming to 
be defeated, plunged into the river, eagerly pursued by Sem* 
pronius, the consul. It was not, howevef, until his army ar- 
rived on the opposite bank, that he perceived himself already 
almost conquered ; his men being fatigued w ith wading up to 
the arm-pits, and quite benumbed by the intense coldness of 
the water. A total rout ensued ; twenty-six thousand of the 
Romans were destroyed; being killed by the enemy, or drown- 
ed in attempting to repass the river. Ten-thousand men were 
all that survived; wha, finding themselves enclosed on every 
side, broke desperately thrQg|fc|the enemy's ranks, and fougjit 
retreating, until they found^MRer in the city of Placentia. 

The third defeat the Romans sustained, was at die lake of 
Thiiisymenus, Near tliis, was a chain of mounftins; and 



HISTORY OF ROME. 75 

between these and the lake, a narrow passage leading to a 
valley, embosomed in hills. It was upon these hills, that 
Hannibal disposed his best troops ; and it was into this valley 
chat Flaminius, the Roman general, led his men to attack him. 
A disposition every way so favourable for the Carthaginians, 
was also assisted by accident: a mist rising from the lake 
prevented the Romans from seeing their enemies ; whilst the 
army upon the mountains, bemg above its influence, saw the 
whole arrangement of their opponents. The fortune of the day 
was such as might have been expected, from the conduct of 
the two generals ; the Romans were broken and slaughtered, 
almost before they could perceive the enemy that destroyed 
them. About fifteen-thousand Romans, together with Flami- 
nius himself, fell in the valley, and six-thousand more wei»e 
obUged to surrender, prisoners of war. 

Upon the news of this defeat reaching Rome, when the 
general consternation was allayed, the senate, after mature de- 
liberation, resolved to elect a commander, with absolute autho- 
rity, in whom they might repose their last and greatest confi- 
dence. Their choice fell upon Fabius Maximus, a man of 
great courage, but with a happy mixture of caution. He 'was 
of opinion, that the Carthaginians, at so great a distance from 
home, would be much more easily humbled by his harassing, 
than his fighting them. For this purpose, he always encamped 
upon the highest grounds, inaccessible to the enemy's cavalry. 
VVhenever they moved, he moved, watched their motions, 
straitened their quarters, and cut off their provisions. 

By these arts, Fabius had at one time enclosed Hannibal 
amongst mountains, where it was impossible for him to winter, 
and yet from which it was almost impracticable to extricate his 
army, without imminent danger. In this exigence, nothing 
but one of those stratagems of war, which fall to the lot only 
of great abilities, to invent, could save him : he ordered a num- 
ber of small fagots, and lighted torches, to be tied to the horns 
of two-thousand oxen, and that they should be driven towards 
the enemy. These, tossing their heads, and running up the 
sides of the mountains, seemed to fill the whole neighbouring 
forests with fire ; whilst the centinels, placed to guard the ap- 
proaches, seeing so great a number of flames advancing to- 
wards their posts, fled in consternation, supposing the whole 
body of the enemy was in arms to overwhelm them. By this 
stratagem, Hannibal drew off* his army, and escaped through 
the defiles which led beneath the hills ; though with considerable 
damage to his rear 



76 HISTORY OF ROME. 

Soon afterwards, his time having expired, Fabius was obligea 
to lay down his office, and Terentius Varro was appointed to 
succeed him. This Varro was a man sprung from the dregs 
of the people, with nothing but his confidence and riches to 
recommend him. With him, was joined -S^milius Paulus^ of a 
disposition entirely opposite ; experienced in the field, cautious 
in action, and impressed with a thorough contempt of the 
abilities of his plebeian colleague. 

The Romans, finding themselves enabled to bring a compe* 
tent force into the field, (being almost ninety-thousand strong,) 
now again resolved to meet Hannibal, who was encamped near 
the village of Cannge, with a wind, that, for a certain season, 
blows always one way, in his rear ; which raising clouds of dust 
from the parched plains behind, he knew must greatly distress 
an approaching enemy. In this situation, he awaited the arrival 
of the Romans, having an army of forty-thousand foot, and 
half that number of cavalry. 

According to his wish, the two consuls soon appeared, hav- 
mg divided their forces into two parts, and agreed to take the 
command alternately, each for a day. 

The first day of their arrival being that on which ^milius 
was to act, he was entirely averse to engaging. The next day^ 
however, it being Varro's turn to command, he, without con- 
sulting his colleague, gave the signal for battle ; and passing 
the river Aufidus, which lay between both armies, put his forces 
in array. The engagement began with the light armed in- 
fantry: the horse came in contact soon afterwards; but the 
Roman cavalry being unable to stand against that of Numidia, 
the legions came up to its assistance. The conflict then be- 
came general. The Roman soldiers, for a long time endea- 
voured, but in vain, to penetrate the centre, where the Gauls 
Hnd Spaniards fought; which', Hannibal observing, he ordered 
part of those troops to give way, and permit the Romans to 
embosom themselves within a chosen body of his Africans, 
whom he had placed on their wings, so as to surround them : 
a dreadful slaughter now ensued, of the Romans, fatigued with 
repeated attacks from the Africans, who were fresh and vigor- 
ous. At last, the rout became general, in every part of the 
Roman army: the boastings of Varro were now no longer I 
heard, whilst -^milius, who had been severely wounded in the " 
very beginning of the action, still feebly led on his body of 
cavalry, and did all that was possible, to withstand the enemy; 
however, being unable to sit on horseback, he was obliged to 
dismount. It was in this deplorable situation of affairs, that I 



HISTORY OF ROME. 77 

tribune, named Lentulus, as he was flying from the enemy, 
which at some distance pursued him, perceived JiLmiHus, cover- 
ed over with wounds and blood, sitting on a stone, and waiting 
for the arrival of the pursuers. " ^mihus," cried the generous 
tribune, **you, at least, are guiltless of this day's slaughter: 
take my horse, and fly." " I thank thee, Lentulus," cried the 
dying consul, *' all is over; my part is chosen: go, I command 
thee, and tell the senate, from me, to fortify Rome against the 
approach of the conqueror. Telk Fabius, also, that -^mihus, 
whilst living, always remembered his advice, and now, dying, 
approves it." Whilst he was yet speaking, the enemy ap- 
proached; and Lentulus, when at no great distance, saw the 
consul expire, feebly fighting in the midst of hundreds. In this 
battle, the Romans lost fifty-thousand men; amongst whom, 
were so many knights, that it is said, Haiinibal sent to Car- 
thage, three bushels of gold rings, which those of that order 
had worn upon their fingers. 

When the first consternation had abated at Rome after thus 
dreadful blow, the senate came to a general resolution to create 
a dictator, in order to give strength to their government. A 
short time afterwards, Yarro arrived, having left behind him 
the wretched remains of his army; and, as he had been the 
principal cause of the late calamity, it was natural to suppose, 
that the senate would severely reprimand the rashness of his 
conduct. But, far otherwise ! The Romans went out in mul- 
titudes to meet him ; and the senate returned him thanks that 
he did not despair of the safety of Rome. Fabius, who was 
considered as the shield, and Marcellus as the sword of Rome^ 
were appointed to lead the armies ; and, though Hannibal once 
more offered them peace, they refused it, except on condition 
that he would leave Italy,-— terms similar to those which they 
had formerly dictated to Pyrrhus. 

In the mean time, Hannibal, either finding it impracticable 
to march directly to Rome, or wishing to give his forces rest 
after so signal a victory, led them to Capua; where he re- 
solved to winter. This city had long been considered as the 
nurse of luxury, and the corrupter o*' all mihtary virtue • here, 
tlierefore, a new scene of pleasure opened to his barbaiian 
troops; and they at once gave themselves up to the mtoxi- 
cation, until from being hardy veterans, they became infirm 
rioters. 

Hitherto, we have seen this great man successful ; but now 
we are to reverse the picture, and behold him struggling with 
accumulating misfortunes, and at last sinking beneath them* 

G 2 



78 HISTORY OF ROME. 

His first loss was at the siege of Nola, where Marcellus, the 
prsetor, made a successful sally. Some time afterwards, he 
attempted to raise the lege of Capua, and attacked the Ro- 
mans in their trenchei^; -oat he was repulsed with considerahle \ 
loss. He then made a feint of going to besiege Rome ; but, 
finding a superior army ready to receive him, he was obliged to 
■jy p retire. For several years afterwards, he fought with 

* * various success; Marcellus, his opponent, sometimes 
gaining, and sometinies losing the advantage, but com- 
ing to no decisive engagement. 

The senate of Carthage at length came to a resolution of 
sending his brother Asdrubal to his assistance, with a body of 
forces drawn out of Spain. AsdrubaPs march being made 
known to the consuls, Livius and Nero, they went against him 
with great expedition; and, surrounding him in a place, into 
which he had been led by the treachery of his guides, they cut 
his whole army to pieces. Hannibal had long expected these 
succours with impatience, but the very night on which he had 
been assured of their arrival, Nero ordered AsdrubaPs head to 
be cut off, and thrown into his brother's camp. The Cartha- 
ginian general now began to foresee the downfal of his country, 
and could not avoid with a sigh observing, that fortune seeme i 
fatigued with granting her favours. 

In the mean time, she favoured the Roman arms in othei 
parts: Marcellus took the city of Syracuse, in Sicily, which 
w^as defended by the machines and the fires of Archimedes, the 
mathematician. 

The inhabitants ^ere put to the sword ; and, amongst the 
number, Archimedeir himself, who was found by a Roman sol- 
dier, meditating in his study. A taste for literature beginning, 
at that time, to prevail amongst the higher ranks at Rome, 
Marcellus, the general, n^s greatly afflicted at his death. He 
therefore ordered his body to be honourably inten-ed, and a 
tomb to be erected to his rremory; which monument his own 
works have long survived. 

Though their affairs in Spain for a while assumed an unfa- 
vourable aspect, two of the Scipios being slain, and Claudius 
Nero, the governor of that province, appearing much an under- 
match for the cunning of the Carthaginian general ; yet they 
soon recovered their complexion under the conduct of Scipio 
Africanus, who sued for the office of pro-consul to that king- 
dom, at a time when every one else seemed willing to decline 
it. Scipio, who was now but twenty-four years old, had all the 
qualifications requisite for forming an accomplished general 



HISTORY OF ROME. 79 

and a good man; he united the greatest courage with the 
greatest tenderness ; superior to Hannibal in the arts of peace, 
and almost his equal in those of war. His father had been 
killed in Spain ; so that he seemed to have an hereditary claim 
to attack that country. He therefore appeared irresistible, 
obtaining many great victories, yet subduing still more by his 
generosity, mildness, and benevolent disposition, than by the 
force of his arms. 

He shortly afterwards returned, with an army, from the con- 
quest of Spain; and was made consul, at the age of twenty- 
nine. It was at first supposed, that he intended meeting 
Hannibal in Italy, and *hat he would attempt driving him 
thence ; but he had already formed a wiser plan, which was to 
carry the war into Africa, and whilst the Carthaginians kept 
an army near Rome, to make them tremble for their own 
capital. 

Scipio was not long in Africa without employment: in a 
short time, Hanno opposed him ; but he was defeated and slain. 
Syphax, the usurper of Numidia, led up a large army against 
him. The Roman general, for a while, declined fighting; but, 
finding an opportunity, he set fire to the enemy's tents, and, 
attacking them in the midst of the confusion, killed forty-thou- 
sand men, and took six-thousand prisoners. 

The Carthaginians, now beginning to be terrified by their 
repeated defeats, and the fame of Scipio's successes, determined 
to recal Hannibal, their great champion, out of Italy, in order 
to oppose the Romans at home. Deputies were accordingly 
despatched, with positive instructions that he should return, 
and meet the Roman general, who threatened Carthage with a 
siege. Nothing could exceed the regret and disappointment 
of Hannibal, upon receiving this order. However, he obeyed 
the commands of his infatuated country, with the same submis- 
sion that the humblest soldier would have done; and took 
leave of Italy, with tears in his eyes, after having kept posses- 
sion of the most beautiful parts above fifteen years. 

Having arrived at Leptis, in Africa, he next marched to 
Adrumetum, and at length approached Zama, a city within five 
days journey of Carthage. 

Scipio, in the mean time, joined by Masinissa, with six- 
thousand horse, led out his army to meet him; and, to show 
his rival in the field, how little he feared his approach, he al- 
lowed the spies, sent to explore his camp, to return, (having 
previously poiJited out the whole,) with directions to inform 
Hannibal of what he had seen. 



80 HISTORY OF ROME. 

The Carthaginian general, conscious of his inferiority, en 
deavoured to conclude the war by negotiation, and requested 
a meeting with Scipio, to confer upon terms of peace; to 
which negotiation, the Roman general assented. But, after a 
long conference, unsatisfactory on both sides, they returned to 
their camps, to prepare for deciding the controversy by the 
sword. Never was a more memorable battle fought; whether 
we regard the generals, the armies, the two states that con- 
tended, or the empire in dispute. The disposition made by 
Hannibal of his men, is said, by the skilful in the art of war, 
to have been superior to any, even of his former arrangements. 
On the side of the Carthaginians, the battle began with the 
elephants ; which, being terrified by the cries of the Romans, 
and wounded by the slingers and archers, turned upon their 
drivers, and caused much confusion in both wings of their 
army, in which the cavalry was placed. Thus deprived of the 
assistance of the horse, in which lay their greatest strength, 
the heavy infantry joined, on both sides ; but the Romans being 
of greater bodily power, the Carthaginians were obhged to re- 
tire. In the mean time, Masinissa, who had been in pursuit 
of their cavalry, returning and attacking them in the rear, com- 
pleted their defeat. A total rout ensued ; twenty- thousand men 
were killed in the battle, and as many were taken piisoners. 
Hannibal, who had done all that a great general and an un- 
daunted soldier could perform, fled, with a small body of horse, 
to Adrumetum; fortune seeming to dehght in confounding his 
ability, his valour, and experience. 

This victory was followed by a peace. The Carthaginians, 
by Hannibal's advice, subscribed to conditions dictated by the 
Romans ; not as rivals, but as sovereigns. By this treaty, the 
Carthaginians were obliged to quit Spain, and all the islands in 
the Mediterranean sea. They were bound to pay ten-thousand 
talents, in fifty years ; to give hostages for the deUvery of their 
ships and their elephants ; to restore Masinissa all the territories 
of which he had been deprived, and not to make war in Africa 
but by the permission of the Romans. Thus ended the second 
Punic war, after having continued for seventeen years. 



HISTORY OF ROME. 81 



CHAPTER XVI. 

From the end of the second Punic war, to the end of the third, 
which terminated in the destruction of Carthage. 

Whilst the Romans were engaged with Hannibal, they 
carried on also a vigorous war against Philip, king of Mace- 
donia. The principal incitement to the contest, was the urgent 
entreaty of the Athenians, who from once controlling even the 
power of Persia, were now unable to defend themselves. The 
Rhodians, with Attains, king of Pergamus, also entered into 
the confederacy against PhiHp. He was frequently defeated 
by Galba, the consul, and his attempt to besiege Athens was 
rendered abortive ; the Romans obliging him to withdraw. He 
endeavoured to take possession of the straits of Thermopylae^ 
but was driven from them, with great slaughter, by Quintus 
Fiaminius. He then wished to take refuge in Thessaly, where 
he was again defeated, with considerable loss, and obhged to 
6ue for peace ; which was granted, on condition of his paying 
a thousand talents, one half then, and the other in ten years. 
The peace with Philip gave the Romans an opportunity of 
showing their generosity, by restoring liberty to Greece. 

Antiochus, king of Syria, was next brought to submit to the 
Roman arms. Several embassies having mutually taken 
place,' a war was declareili against him, five years after the 
conclusion of that with Macedonia. 

After a succession of errors, he attempted to obtain a peace, 
by offering to evacuate all his European possessions, and those 
also in Asia, which professed alliance to Rome. But it was 
now too late : Scipio, perceiving his own superiority, resolved 
to avail himself of it. Antiochus, thus driven to resistance, 
for some time retreated before the enemy , until, being pressed 
hard, near the city of Magnesia, he was compelled to draw 
out his men, amounting to seventy-thousand foot, and twelve- 
thousand horse. Scipio opposed him with forces, as much in- 
ferior in number, as they were superior in courage and disci 
pline. Antiochus, therefore, was in a short time entirely de- 
feated; his own chariots, armed with scythes, being driven 
back upon his men, and contributing much to his overthrow. 
Thus reduced to the last extremity, he was glad to procure 
peace from the Romans, on their own terms ; which were, that 
he should pay fifteen-thousand talents towards the expenses of 
<he war; quit all his possessions in Europe, and those in Asi? 



52 HISTORY OF ROME. 

on that side of Mount Taurus ; give twenty hostages as pledges 
of his performance, and deliver up Hannibal, the inveterate 
enemy of Rome. 

Hannibal, whose destruction was one of the articles of this 
extorted treaty, endeavoured to avoid the threatened ruin. 
This consummate general had been long a wanderer and an 
exile from his ungrateful country. He had taken refuge at the 
court of Antiochus, who, at first, gave him a sincere welcome, 
and made him admiral of his fleet; in which station, he dis- 
played his usual skill in stratagem. But he soon sunk in the 
Syrian's esteem, by having advised measures, which that mon- 
narch had neither genius to understand, nor abilities to execute. 
Conscious, therefore, that both safety and protection would be 
denied him, he departed secretly ; and, after wandering a con- 
siderable time amongst petty states, which had neither power 
nor generosity to befriend him, he took refuge at the court of 
Prusias, king of Bithynia. In the mean time, the Romans, 
with a vindictive spirit utterly unworthy of them, sent ^milius, 
one of their most celebrated generals, to demand him of this 
king; who, fearing the resentment of Rome, and willing to con- 
''iliate their friendship by this breach of hospitahty, ordered a 
guard to be placed upon Hannibal, with an mtention of deliver- 
ing him up. The poor old general, thus implacably persecuted 
from one country to another, and finding all means of safety 
cut off*, determined to die. He therefore desired one of his 
followers to bring him poison, which he had ready for this exi- 
gence ; and having drunk it, he expired. 

yr p A second Macedonian war was soon afterwards pro- 
p,* * claimed, against Perseus, the son of Philip, whom we 
have already seen obliged to beg peace of the Romans. 
Perseus, in order to secure the crown, had barbarously murder- 
ed his brother Demetrius ! and, upon the death of his father, 
pleased with the hopes of expected triumphs, made war against 
Rome. During the course of these hostilities, (which con- 
tinued about three years,) many opportunities were offered him 
of cutting off* the Roman army ; but, not knowing how to take 
advantage of their rashness, he spent the time in empty over- 
tures for peace. At length, iEmilius gave him a decisive over- 
throw, near the river Enipeus. He attempted to procure safety 
by flying into Crete; but, being abandoned by all. he was 
obhged to surrender himself, and to grace the splendid triumph 
of the Roman general. 

About this time, Masinissa, the Numidian, having made 
some incursions into a territory claimed by the Carthaginian « 



HISTORY OF ROME. 83 

they attempted to repel the invasion. This produced a war 
between the parties ; and the Romans, who pretended to con- 
sider this conduct on the part of Carthage, an infraction of the 
treaty, sent to remonstrate. The ambassadors who were em- 
ployed upon this occasion, finding the city very rich and flour- 
ishing from the uninterrupted peace which it had now enjoyed 
for nearly fifty years, either from motives of avarice to possess 
its plunder, or alarmed at its growing prosperity, insisted 
strongly on the necessity of a war. Hostihties were soon after 
proclaimed, and the consuls set out, fully determined on the 
destruction of Carthage. 

The wretched Carthaginians, finding that the conquerors 
would not desist from making demands, whilst they had any 
tiling remaining, attempted to soften the victors by submission; 
but they ordered them to leave their city; which was to be 
leveled with the ground. This severe command they received 
with all the concern.and distress of a despairing people ; they 
begged a respite from so hard a sentence : they used tears and 
lamentations ; but, finding the consuls inexorable, they departed 
with a gloomy resolution, prepared to suffer the utmost ex- 
tremities, and to fight, to the last, for the seat of their empire. 

Those vessels, therefore, of gold and silver, which had 
hitherto adorned their luxurious banquets, were now converted 
into arms. The women also parted with their ornaments, and 
even cut off their hair, to be made into bow-strings. Asdrubal, 
who had lately been condemned for opposing the Romans, was 
now taken from prison, to head the army; and, so great were 
the preparations, that, when the consuls came before the city, 
which they expected to find an easy conquest, they met a re- 
sistance which quite dispirited their forces, and shook their 
resolution. Several engagements took place before the walls, 
with disadvantage to the assailants ; so that the siege would 
have been discontinued, had not Scipio -^milianus, (the adopted"^ 
son of Africanus,) who was now appointed to superintend it, 
shown as much skill to save bis forces after a defeat, as to in- 
spire them with fresh hopes of victory. But all his arts would 
have failed, had he not found means to seduce Pharneas, the 
master of the Carthaginian horse, who came over to his side. 
The unhappy townsmen soon saw the enemy make nearer ap- 
proaches : the wall which led to the haven was quickly de- 
molished; soon afterwards, the forum itself was taken, dis- 
playing to the conquerors a deplorable spectacle, of houses 
tumbhng, heaps of men lying dead, hundreds of the wounded 
struggling to emerge from the surrounding carnage, and de- 



S4 HISTORY OF ROME. 

ploring their ©wn, and their country's ruin. The citadel soon 
after surrendered at discretion. All but the temple was now 
subdued, and that was defended by deserters from the Roman 
army, and those who had been most forward to undertake the 
war. They, however, expecting no mercy, and finding their 
situation desperate, set fire to the building, and voluntarily 
perished in the flames. This was the end of one of the most 
renowned cities in the world, for arts, opulence, and extent of 
dominion. It had rivaled Rome for above a hundred years, 
and, at one time, was thought to have the superiority. 

The destruction of Carthage was succeeded by conquests 
over many other states. Corinth, one of the noblest cities of 
Greece, in the same year sustained a similar fate ; being entered 
by Mummius, the consul, and leveled with the ground. Scipio 
also having laid siege to Numantia, the strongest city of Spain, 
the wretched inhabitants, to avoid falling into the hands of the 
enemy, set it on fire; and all, without exception, expired in the 
flames. 

Thus, Spain fell under the dominion of Rome, and was gov- 
erned thenceforward by two praetors annually appointed. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

From the destruction of Carthage, to the end of the sedition oj 
the Gracchi. 

jj p The Romans being now left without a rival, the 
^* * triumphs and the spoils of Asia introduced a taste for 
extravagance, which was succeeded by avarice and in- 
verted ambition. The two Gracchi, the first who perceived 
this corruption amongst the great, resolved to repress it, by 
renewing the Licinian law, which had enacted, that no person 
in the sta*e should possess above five-hundred acres of land. 
Tiberii^s Gracchus, the elder of the two, was a man very con- 
spicuous, both for the beauty of his person, and the quaUties of 
his mind. A'ery different from Scipio, of whom he was a 
grandson, he seemed more ambitious of power, than desirous 
of glory : his sympathy for the oppressed was equal to his ani- 
mosity against tne oppressors; but, unhappily, his passions, 
rather than his reason, operated, even in his pursuits of virtue ; 
and these always h^^rried him beyond the line of duty. Such 
was the disposition <)f the elder Gracchus, who found the lower 



HISTORY OF ROME. 85 

orders ready to second all his proposals. This Licinian law, 
though at first used with proper moderation, greatly disgusted 
the rich, who endeavoured to persuade the people, that the 
proposer aimed only at disturbing the government, and putting 
all things in confusion. But Gracchus, who was a man of the 
greatest eloquence of his time, easily erased these impressions 
from their minds, already irritated by injuries ; and the law was 
at length passed. 

The death of Attains, king of Pergamus, furnished Tiberius 
Gracchus with a new opportunity of gratifying the poor, at the 
expense of the rich. This king had, by his will, appointed the 
Romans his heirs ; and it was now proposed that the money, 
so left, should be divided amongst the poor, in order to furnish 
them with proper utensils for cultivating the lands, which be- 
came theirs by the late law of partition. This caused still 
greater disturbances than before. The senate assembled upon 
this occasion, to determine upon the most efficient measures 
of securing for themselves those riches, which they now valued 
above the safety of the commonwealth. They had numerous 
dependants, who were willing to exchange their liberty, for ease 
and plenty : these, therefore, were ordered to be in readiness 
to intimidate the people, who expected no such opposition, and 
who were now attending to the harangues of Tiberius Gracchus, 
in the capitol. Here, as a clamour was raised, by the clients 
of the great, on one side, and the favourers of the law on the 
other, Tiberius found his speech entirely interrupted, and beg- 
ged, in vain, to be heard : at last, raising his hand to his head, 
to intimate that his life was in danger, the partisans of the 
senate exclaimed, that he wanted a diadem. In consequence 
of this, there ensued a universal uproar. The corrupt part of 
the senate were of opinion, that the consul should defend the 
commonwealth, by force of arms; but this pmdent magistrate 
declining such violence, Scipio Na: ica, kinsman to Gracchus, 
immediately rose, and, preparing himself for the contest, de- 
sired that all, who would defend the dignity and authority of 
the laws, should follow him. Then, attended by a large body of 
senators, and cHents armed with clubs, he went directly to the 
capitol, striking down all who ventured to resist. Tiberius, 
perceiving by the tumult that his hfe was in danger, endeavour- 
ed to fly; and, throwing aside his robe to expedite his escape, 
attempted to press through the throng ; but, happening to fail 
over a person already on the ground, Saturnius, one of his col- 
leagues in the tribuneship, who was of the opposite faction, 
struck him dead with a piece of a seat, and not less than threo- 

H 



86 HISTORY OF ROME. 

hundred of his hearers were killed in the tumult. Nor did the 
Tengeance of the senate stop here. It extended to numbers 
of those who seemed to espouse his caus€ : many were put to 
death, many were banished ; and nothing was omitted to in- 
spire the people with an abhorrence of his imputed crimes. 

Caius Gracchus was only twenty-one, upon the death of 
his brother Tiberius ; and, as he was too young to be much 
dreaded by the great, so he was at first unwilling to incur their 
resentment, by aims beyond his reach : he therefore lived in 
retirement, unseen, and almost forgotten. But, whilst he thus 
seemed desirous to shun popularity, he was employing his soli- 
tude in a way which was the readiest to obtain it — the study 
of eloquence. At length, when he thought himself qualified to 
serve his country, he oftered himself a candidate for the praetor- 
ship, to the army in Sardinia; which he readily obtained. Hrs 
valour, afiability, and temperance in this office, were remarked 
by all. The king of Numidia, sending a present of corn to the 
Romans, ordered his ambassadors to say, that it was entirely 
as a tribute to the virtues of Caius Gracchus. This, the senate 
treated with scorn : they commanded the ambassadors to be 
dismissed, as ignorant barbarians ; which so inflamed the re- 
sentment of young Gracchus, that he immediately came from 
the army, to complain of the indignity thrown upon his reputa- 
tion, and to offer himself for the tribuneship of the people. It 
was then, that the great found in this youth, hitherto neglected 
on account of his age, a more formidable antagonist, than even 
his brother had been. Notwithstanding the warmest opposition 
from the senate, he was declared tribune, by a large majority; 
and he now prepared to run the same career, in which his 
brother had been before so conspicuous. 

His first eflTort was to have Popilius, one of the most invete- 
rate of his brother's enemies, cited before the people ; but he, 
rather than stand the event of a trial, went into voluntary ban- 
ishment. He next procured an edict, grantmg the freedom of 
the city to the inhabitants of Latium ; and, soon afterwards, to 
all the people on that side of the Alps. He afterwards fixed 
the price of corn at a moderate standard, and procured a 
monthly distribution of it amongst the people. He then pro- 
ceeded to an inspection into the late corruptions of the senate ; 
the whole body of whiclvbeing convicted of bribery, extortion, 
and the sale of offices, (for at that time a total degeneracy 
seemed to have taken place,) a law was passed, transferring 
from the senate to the knights the power of judging corrupt 
magistrates, which made a great change in the constitution. 



HISTORY OF ROME. 87 

Gracchus, by these means, having grown not only very pop- 
ular, but very powerful in the state, became an object at which 
the senate aimed all their resentment. But he soon found tha 
populace a faithless and unsteady support : they began to with- 
draw all their confidence from him, and to place it in Drusus, 
a man insidiously set up against him by the senate. It was in 
vain that he revived the Licinian law in their favour, and called 
up several of the inhabitants of the different Italian towns, to 
his support; the senate ordered them all to depart from Rome, 
and even sent one stranger to prison, whom Gracchus had in- 
vited to dine with him, and honoured with his table and friend- 
ship. To this indignity, was shortly after added a disgrace, of 
a more fatal tendency: standing for the tribuneship a third 
time, he was unsuccessful ; it being supposed that the officers, 
whose duty it was to make the return, were bribed to reject 
him, though fairly chosen. 

It was now evident that the fate of Gracchus was determined. 
Opimius, the consul, was not contented with the protection of 
all the senate and the knights, with a numerous retinue of 
slaves and clients, but ordered a body of Candians, that were 
mercenaries in the Roman service, to follow and attend him. 
Thus guarded, and conscious of the superiority of his forces, 
he insulted Gracchus wherever he met him ; doing all he could 
to excite a quarrel, that he might have a pretence of despatching 
his enemy in the fray. Gracchus avoided all recrimination; 
and, as if apprized of the consul's designs, would not even wear 
any kind of arms for his defence. His friend Flaccus, how- 
ever, a zealous tribune, was not so remiss, but resolved to^op- 
pose party against party ; and, for this purpose, brought up to 
Rome several countrymen, who came under pretence of want- 
ing employment. When the day for determining the contro- 
versies arrived, the two parties, early in the morning, attended 
at the capitol; where, whilst the consul was sacrificing accord- 
ing to custom, one of the hctors, taking up the entrails of the 
beast that was slain, in order to remove them, could not for- 
bear crying out, to Fulvius and his party, " You, ye factious 
citizens, make way for honest men." This insult so provoked 
those to whom it was addressed, that they instantly fell upon 
him, and pierced him to death with the instruments they used 
in writing, which they then happened to have in their hands. 
This murder caused a great disturbance in the assembly: 
Gracchus, in particular, who saw the consequences that were 
likely to ensue, reprimanded his party for giving his enemies 
fip great an advantage over him, and now prepared to lead his 



88 HISTORY OF ROME. 

followers to mount Aventine. Here, he learned that proclama- 
tion had been made by the consuls, that whoever would bring 
either his head or tha^t of Flaccus, should receive as a reward, 
its weight in gold. It w^as to no purpose that he sent the 
youngest son of Flaccus, who was yet a child, with proposals 
for an accommodation. The senate and the consuls, sensible 
of their superiority, rejected all his offers, and resolved to punish 
his offence with nothing less than death ; but, at the same time 
they offered pardon to all who should immediately abando 
him. This produced the desired effect; the people deserted 
him by degrees, and left him with very inferior forces. In the 
mean time, Opimius, the consul, thirsting for slaughter, led his 
forces up to mount Aventine, and fell in amongst the crowd with 
ungovernable fury : a terrible slaughter of the scarcely resisting 
multitude ensued, and not less than three-thousand citizens 
were slain upon the spot. Flaccus attempted to find shelter 
in a deserted cottage; but, being discovered, he was killed, 
with his eldest son. Gracchus, at first* retired to the temple 
of Diana, where he resolved to die by his own hand, but was 
prevented by two of his faithful friends and followers, Pompo- 
nius and Licinius, who forced him to seek safety by flight. 
He then endeavoured to reach a bridge which led from the 
city, still attended by his two generous friends, and a Grecian 
slave, whose name w?.s Philocrates. But his pursuers pressed 
closely upon him, and when arrived at the foot of the bridge he 
was obliged to turn and face the enemy. His two friends were 
soon slain, defending him against the crowd; and he, with his 
Grecian, was forced to take refuge beyond the Tyber, in a 
grove which had long been dedicated to the Furies. Here, 
finding himself surrounded on every side, and no way left of 
escaping, he prevailed upon his slave to despatch him; who 
immediately afterwards killed himself, and fell down upon the 
body of his beloved master. The pursuers, soon coming up, 
cut off the head of Gracchus, and placed it, for a while, as a 
trophy, upon a spear; and one Septimuleius, having carried it 
home, and secretly taken out the brain, filled it with lead, in 
I order to increase its weight; by which artifice, he received 
from the consul, as a recompense, seventeen pounds of gold. 

Thus died, Caius Gracchus, about ten years after his brother 
Tiberius, and six after he began to be active in the common- 
wealth. He is usually impeached by historians, as guilty of 
sedition; but, from what we see of his character, the disturbing 
of the public tranquillity was owing rather to his opposers than 
to him, so that instead of calling the tumults of that time the 



HISTORY OF ROME. 89 

sedition of the Gracchi, we should rather call them the sedition 
of the senate against the Gracchi ; since the efforts of the latter 
were made in vindication of a law to which the senate had as- 
sented, and as the designs of the former were supported by an 
extraneous armed power from the country, which had never 
before interfered m the business of the legislation, and whose 
introduction gave an irrevocable blow to the constitution. 
Whether the Gracchi were actuated by motives of ambition, 
or of patriotism, in the promulgation of these laws, it is impos- 
sible to determine ; but certain it is, from what appears, that 
all justice was on their side, and all injury on that of the senate 
This body was now quito changed, from that venerable as- 
sembly which we have seen overthrow ing Pyrrhus and Han- 
nibal, as much by their virtues, as by their arms. They were 
now to be distinguished from the rest of the people, only by 
their superior luxury; and ruled the commonwealth by the 
weight of that authority, which is gained from riches and a 
number of mercenary dependants. All the venal and* the base 
were attached to them, from motives of self interest ; and they 
who still ventured to be independent, were borne down and en- 
tirely lost, in the infamous majority. The empire at this period 
came under the government of a hateful aristocracy : the tri- 
bunes, who were formerly accounted protectors of the people, 
becoming rich themselves, and having no longer opposite in- 
terests from those of the senate, concurred in their oppressions; 
since, as it has been said, the struggle was not now between 
patricians and plebeians, who only nominally differed, but be- 
tween the rich and the poor. The lower orders of the state, 
being, by these means, reduced to a degree of hopeless subju- 
gation, instead of looking after liberty, sought only for a leader; 
whilst the rich, with all the suspicions of tyrants, and terrified 
at the slightest appearance of opposition, intrusted men with 
uncontrollable power, from whom they had not strength to 
withdraw it, when the danger was over. Thus, both parties of 
the state concurred in giving up their freedom : the fears of the 
senate first made a dictator, and the hatred of the people kept 
him in office. Nothing can be more dreadful, to a reflecting 
mind, than the government of Rome, from this period, until it 
found refuge under the protection of Augustus. 

H 2 



90 HISTORY OF ROIVTE. 



CHAPTER XVm. 



From the sedition of the Gracchi^ to the 'perpetual dictatorship 
of Sylla, which ivas the first step towards the ruin of the 
commonwealth. 

Whilst the Romans were in this state of deplorable cor- 
ruption at home, they nevertheless were very successful in their 
transactions abroad, 

• Jugurtha was a grandson of the famous Masinissa, who 
fought against Hannibal, on the side of Rome. He was edu- 
cated with the two young princes, who were left to inherit the 
kingdom, to both of whom he was superior in abilities, and 
was also greatly in favour with the people. He murdered 
Hiempsal, the eldest son, and attempted the life of xldherbal, 
the younger, who made his escape, a,nd fled to the Romans, for 
succour.# Jugurtha, sensible how much avarice and injustice 
had crept into the senate, sent his ambassadors to Rome, with 
large presents ; which so successfully prevailed, that the senate 
decreed him half the kingdom, which he had thus acquired by 
murder and usurpation, and sent ten commissioners to divide it 
betv/een him and Adherbal. The commissioners, of whom 
Opimius, the murderer of Gracchus, was one, willing to follow 
the example which had been set them by the senate, were also 
bribed to bestow the richest and most populous part of the king- 
dom upon the usurper; who, notwithstanding, was resolved to 
take possession of the whole. But, wishing to give a colour 
to his ambition, he, in the beginning, only made incursions upon 
his colleafiue's territories, in order to provoke reprisals; which 
he knew how to convert into seeming aggressions, in case an 
appeal were made to the senate. This faiUng, he resolved to 
throw orf the mask'; and, besieging Adherbal in Cirta, his cap- 
ital, at length got him into his power, and murdered him. The 
people of Rome, who had still some generosity remaining^, 
unanimously complained of this treachery, and procured a de- 
cree that Jugurtha should be summoned, in person, before 
them, to give an account of all those who had accepted bribes. 
Jugurtha made no great difficulty in throwing himself upon the 
clemency of Rome ; but, giving the people no satisfaction, he 
was ordered to depart from the city, and in the mean time an 
army was despatched to follow him, under the command of 
Albanus, the consul. He having given up the command to 
Aulas, his brother, a person every way unqualified for the sit- 



HISTORY OF ROME. 91 

uation, the Romans were compelled to hazard a battle upon 
disadvantageous terms, and the whole army, to avoid being 
cut to pieces, were obliged to pass under the yoke. 

In this condition, Metellus, the succeeding consul, found af- 
fairs, on his arrival in Numidia; officers without confidence; 
an army without discipline, and an enemy always watchful and 
intriguing. However, by his great attention to business, and 
by an integrity that shuddered at corruption, he soon began to 
retrieve the affairs of Rome, and the credit of the army. In the 
space of two years, Jugurtha was overthrown in several battles, 
forced out of his own dominions, and constrained to beg a 
peace. Thus, all things promised Metellus a certain and an 
easy victory ; but he was frustrated in his expectations by the 
intrigues of Caius Marius, his lieutenant ; who came in to reap 
the harvest of that glory, which the other's industry had sown. 
Marius was born in a village near Arpinium, of poor parents, 
who gained their living by their labour. As he had been bred 
up in a participation of their toils, his manners were as rude as 
his countenance was frightful. He was a man of extraordinary 
stature, incomparable strength, and undaunted bravery. When 
Metellus, as already related, v/as obliged to solicit at Rome for 
a continuance of his command, Marius, whose ambition knew 
no bounds, resolved to obtain it for himself; and thus gain all 
the glory of terminating the war. To that end, he privately 
inveighed against Metellus, by his emissaries ; and, having ex- 
cited a spirit of discontent against him, he obtained leave to 
go to Rome, to stand, hiniself, for the consulship ; which, con- 
trary to the expectation and interest of the nobles, he obtained. 
Marius, thus invested with the supreme power of managing the 
^\i^r*. showed himself every way fit for the commission. His 
vigilance was equal to his valour; and he quickly made him- 
self master of the cities which Jugurtha had yet remaining in 
Njumidia. Tjis unfortunate prince, finding himself unauie to 
make opposition singly, was obliged to have recourse to Boc- 
chus, king of Mauritania, to whose daughter he was married. 
A battle ensued ; in which, the Numidians surprised the Ro- 
man camp, by night, and gained a temporary advantage. But 
Marius, soon afterwards, overthrew them in two signal engage- 
ments, in one of which not less than ninety-thousand of the 
African army were killed. Bocchus, now finding the Romans 
too powerful to be resisted, did not think it expedient to hazard 
his crown, Xo protect that of his ally : he therefore determined 
to make peace, on any conditions that might be obtained ; and 
accordingly sent to Rome, imploring protection. The senate 



92 HISTORY OF ROME. 

received the ambassadors with their usual haughtiness; and, 
without complying with their req^iest, granted the suppliant, not 
their friendship, but their pardon. However, after some time, 
he was informed, that the delivering of Jugurtha to the Ro- 
mans, would, in some measure, conciliate their favour, and 
soften their resentment. At first, the pride of Bocchus strug- 
gled against such a proposal; but a few interviews with Sylla, 
who was quaestor to Marius, reconciled him to this treacherous 
measure. At length, therefore, Jugurtha was given up ; having 
been drawn into an ambuscade by the specious pretences of his 
ally, who had deluded him by desiring a conference. He was 
then carried by Marius to Rome, loaded with chains ; a de- 
plorable instance of blasted ambition. He did not long sur- 
vive his overthrow ; being condemned by the senate, a short 
time after he had adorned the triumph of the conqueror, to b« 
starved to death in prison. Marius, by this, and two succeed- 
ing victories over the Gauls, having grown very formidable to 
distant nations in war, became, soon afterwards, much more 
dangerous to his fellow citizens, in peace. 

The strength which he had given the popular party, every 
day grew more conspicuous ; and the Italians being frustrated 
in their aims of gaining the freedom of Rome by the intrigues 
of the senate, resolved upon obtaining by force, what was re- 
fused them as a favour. This gave rise to the Social War ; in 
which, most of the states of Italy entered into a confederacy 
against Rome, in order to obtain a redress of this, and every 
other grievance. 

After a lapse of two years, this war having continued to rage 
with doubtful success, the senate began to reflect, that whether 
conquered or conquerors, the power of the Romans was in 
danger of being totally destroyed. In order, therefore, that 
they might comply with their wishes by degrees, they began- 
by giving the freedom of the city to those Italian states which^^- 
had not revolted. They then offered it to those who would 
first lay down their arms. This unexpected bounty had the 
desired effect; the allies, with mutual distrust, offering each a 
separate treaty. The senate then took them, one by one, into 
favour ; but gave the freedom of the city in such a manner, that 
not being empowered to vote until all the other tribes had given 
their suffrages, they had very little weight in the constitution. 
In this mannrjr, they were made free; all but the Samnites and 
Lucanians, m ho seemed excluded from the general compromise, 
as if to leave Sylla, who commanded against them, the glory 
of putting ai » end to the war : which he performed with great 



1 






HISTORY OF ROME. 93 

ability ; storming their camps ; overthrowing them in several 
battles, and obliging them to submit to such terms as the senate 
was pleased to impose. 

This destructive war being concluded, which, as Paterculus 
says, consumed above three hundred-thousand of the flower 
of Italy, the senate now began to think of turning their arms 
against Mithridates, the most powerful monarch of the east. 

For this enterprise, Marius had long been preparing; but 
Sylla, who now began to make a figure in the commonweahh, 
had interest enough to get that general set aside, and himself 
appointed to the expedition. Marius, however, tried all his arts 
with the people, to have this appointment reversed; and, at 
length, a law was enacted, by which the command of the army 
designed to oppose Mithridates, was to be transferred from 
Sylla to himself. 

# In consequence of this, Marius immediately sent down of- 
ficers from Rome, to take the command, in his name. But, 
instead of obeying his orders, the soldiers slew the officers, 
and then entreated Sylla that he would lead them directly to 
take signal vengeance upon all his enemies at Rome. 

Accordingly, they entered the city, sword-in-hand, as a place 
^taken by storm. ^ Marius and Sulpitius, at the head of a tu- 
multuary body of their partisans, attempted to oppose their 
entrancei^ian^.tjorc citizens themselves, who feared the sacking 
of the place/itbmM^ down stones and tiles, from the tops of the 
houses, upon ^ife intruders. So unequal a conflict lasted longer 
than could have been expected: at length, Marius and his 
party were obliged to seek safety by flight ; after having, in vain, 
offered freedom to all the slaves who would assist them. 

Sylla, now tinding himself master of the city, began by 

odeling the laws, so as to favour his outrages; whilst Marius, 
driven out of Rome, and declared a public enemy, at the age 
of seventy^ v/as^bliged to save himself, unattended and on foot, 
fiin the num^us pursuits of those v/ho sought his life. Afteif 
haviiig wandgj^ea for some time in this deplorable condition, he 
found his cfangers every day increase, and his pursuers gaining 
ground upon him. In this distress, he was obliged to conceal 
hi mself i n the marshes of Minturnse, where he spent the night, 
up flThis chin in a quagmire. At break of day, he left this 
dismal place, and made towards the sea-side, in hopes of find* 
ing a ship to facilitate his escape : bij^, being known and dis» 
covered by some of the inhabita|r!S, he was conducted to a 
neighbouring town, and with a halter round his neck, without 
clothes, and covered over with mud, was sent to prison. The 



94 HISTORY OF ROME. 

gcrvernor of the place, willing to conform to the orders of the 
senate, soon afterwards sent a Cimbrian slave to despatch 
him. But the barbarian, as soon as he entered the dungeon 
for this purpose, stopped short; intimidated by the dreadful 
visage and awful voice of the fallen general, who sternly de- 
manded, " Have you the presumption to kill Caius Mariusi" 
The slave, unable to reply, threw down his sword ; and, rush- 
ing back from the prison, cried out, that he found it impossible 
to kill him ! The governor, considering the fear of the slave as 
an omen in the unhappy exile's favour, gave him, once more, 
his freedom ; and, commending him to his fortune, provided 
him with a ship, to convey him from Italy. He thence pro- 
ceeded to the Island of ^Enaria; and, sailing onward, was forced 
by a tempest on the coast of Sicily. A Roman quaestor, who 
happened to be at the same place, resolved to seize him ; by 
which, he lost sixteen of his crew, who were killed in their ertS 
deavours to cover his retreat from the ship. He afterwards 
landed in Africa, near Carthage ; and went, in a melancholy 
manner, to place himself amongst the ruins of that desolated 
place. He soon, however, received orders from the praetor 
who governed there, to retire. Marius, who remembered his 
having once served this very man when in ne^ssity, could not 
suppress his sorrow, at finding ingratitude in every part of the 
world; and, preparing to obey, desired the messenger to in- 
form his master, that he had seen Marius sitting amongst the 
ruins of Carthage: intimating the greatness of his own fall, by 
the desolation that surrounded him. He then embarked once 
more : and not knowing where to land without encountering an 
enemy, spent the winter at sea ; expecting, every hour, the re- 
turn of a messenger from his son, whom he had sent to soIicitT'^ 
protection from an African prince, whose name was Man- 
drastal. After long expectation, instead of the messenger, his 
son himself arrived: having escaped from the inhosp" 

court of that monarch, where he had been detained 

friend, but as a prisoner; and he returned just timnenough to 
prevent his father from sharing the same fate. Iiwas in this 
situation they were informed, that Cinna, one of their party 
who remained at Rome, had restored their affairs ; ' and that he 
then headed a large army of the Italian states in his cause. 

Nor was it long before they joined their forces, and presented 
themselves at the gates of Rome. Sylla was at that time ab- 
sent, in his command against Mithridates, whilst Cinna marched 
into the city, accompanied by his guards ; but Marius stopped, 
and refused to enter, allegmg, that having been banished by a 



HISTORY OF ROME. 95 

public decree, it was necessary to have another, to authorize 
his return. It was thus, that he intended to give his meditated 
cruelties the appearance of justice ; and whilst he planned the ^ 
destruction of thousands, to assume an implicit veneration for % 
the laws. In pursuance of his desire, an assembly of the peo- 
ple being called, they began to annul the sentence oti||^s ban- 
ishment: but they had scarcely gone through three of the 
tribes, when, incapable of containing his desire of revenge, he 
entered the«city, at the head of his guards ; and massacred all 
that had ever been obnoxious to him, without pity or remorse. 
Numbers who sought to avert the tyrant's rage, were murdered 
by his command, and in his presence ; many, even of those 
who had never offended him, were put to death ; and, at last, 
even his own officers never approached him but with terror* 
#Having in this manner punished his enemies, he next abrogated 
all the laws made by his rival ; and then associated himself in 
the consulship with Cinna. Thus gratified in his two favourite 
passions, vengeance and ambition: having once saved his 
country, and now deluged it with blood; at last, as if willing to 
crown with his own body, the j^le of slaughter which he had 
made, he died the month afterwards ; not without suspicion of 
aving hastened his end. ^"^ ^^ 

I the mean time, these accounts were brought to Sylla, wh^^^ 
was sent to oppose Mithridates, and was performing many sig- 
nal services against him ; but, concluding a peace with that 
monarch, he resolved to return, to take revenge of his enemies 
at Rome. i 

Nothing, however, could intimidate CTina from making pre- 
parations to repel his opponent. Being joined by Carbo, now 
elected in the room of Valerius, wholfed been slain; together 
with younfg Marius, who inhetfted all the abilities and the am- 
bition of his fatheij^e determined upon sending over part of 
the forces which he had raised in Dalmatia, to oppose Sylla 
before he should enter Italy. Some troops were accordingly 
embarked ; but, being dispersed by a storm, the rest who had 
not yet put to sea, absolutely refused to go. Upon this, Cinna, 
quite furious at^ their disobedience, rushed forward to compel 
them to their duty ; and one of the most mutinous of the sol- 
diers, being struck by an officer, rettirned the blow, and was 
apprehended for the crime. This ill-timed severity increased 
the tumult and the mutiny; aml^liwfailst Cinna did all he could 
to appease it, he was pierced th^%h the body by one of the 
crowd. 

Scipio, the consul, who commanded against Sylla, was soon 



96 HISTORY OF ROME.* 

afterwards allured by proposals for a treaty ; and a suspension 
of arms being agreed on, Sylla's soldiers went into tbe opposite 
camp, displaying the riches which they had acquired in their 
expeditions, and offering to participate with their fellow citizens, 
in case they would change their party. Accordingly, the whole 
arnij d49*ired for Sylla; and Scipio scarcely knew that he wag ( 
forsaken and deposed, until he was informed of it by a party 
of^e enemy, who, entering his tent, made him and his son 
their prisoners. ^ 

In this manner, both factions, exasperated to the highest tie-' 
gree, and expecting no mercy on either part, gave vent to their 
fury in several engagements. The forces on the side of young 
Marius, who now succeeded his father in command, were the 
most numerous; but those of Sylla better united, and more 
under subordination. ♦Carbo, who conai^ahded an army in the 
field for Marius, sent eight legions to Prseneste, to relieve his 
colleague; but they were met in a defile by Pompey, (afterwards 
surnamed the Great,) who kill<^ many of them and dispersed 
the rest. Carbo, joined by ^^rbanus, soon afterwards engaged 
Metellus ; but was overcome, wifh the loss of ten-thousand men 
slain, and six- thousand taken^pr^oners. ,In consequence of 
^l^is defeat, Urbanus killed himself, and4(Barbo fled to Afric||||| 
^^here, after wandering a long time, he Was at last dehverW^ 
up to Pompey, who, to please Sylla, ordered him to be be- 
headed. 

Sylla now became undisputed master of his country, and 
entered Rome at the head of his army. Happy, had he^ sup- 
ported in peace, the glofJ^vHlch hte acquired in war, or, had he 
ceased to live, when he c^sed to*conquer. 

Eight-thousand men, who hadescape'd" the general carnage, 
oflTered themselves to the contffiH^or^ He ordered them to be 
put into the Yilla Publica, a large houSe in thPCampus Martius, 
and at the same time convokS^d the senate. He spoke with 
great fluency, and in a manner no way discomposed, of his own 
exploits ; and in the mean time gave private directions, that all 
those wretches whom he had confined, should be put to death. 
Amazed at the horrid outcries of the sufferers, the senate at 
first thought that the city was given up to plunder ; but Sylla, 
with an unembarrassed air, informed them, that the noise pro- 
ceeded from some^criminals who were punished by his order, 
and that they needed not tojaave been uneasy about their fate. 
The day afterwards, he proscribed forty senators, and sixteen^ 
hundred knights ; and, after an intermission of two days, forty 



HISTORY OF ROME. . 97 

senators more, with an iiifinite number of the richest citizens 
of Rome. 

He next resolved to invest himself with the dictatorship, and 
that for a perpetuity; and thus, uniting in his own pcjrspa 
power, ciw as well as military, he was confid^t he mij 
thence dH|an air of justice to every oppression. ^ , 

In tSPrnatiher, he continued to govern with capricii^ 
tyrann^ none daring to resist his power; until, contrary to We 
expectations of all mankind, he laid down the dictatorship, hav-# 
ing held it not quite three years. 

After this, he retilred into the country; as if to enjoy the 
pleasure^f tranquill% and social happiness ! But he did not 
iorg sui^fe his abdication: he died of that disease, called 
morbus ^^mtularis ; a loathsome and mortifying object, forcibly 
displayih^lie futility of human ambition. 




N 



CHAPTER XIX. 






From . the perpetual dictatorship of Sylla^ to the triumvirate 
of Caesar, Pompeu. and Crassus. 

yj p Upon the death of Sylla, the jealousies of Pompey 
fiftO * (p^'op^J'Jy called Pompeius) and Crassus, ihe two most 
powerful men in the empire, began to excite fresh dis- 
sensions. Pompey was the post beloved general ; and Crassus, 
the richest man in ROme. 

The first opportunity of discovering their mutual jealousy, 
was upon the c^jlsbandiniMMfc the troops, wtth which they had 
conquered. Neither j^B»e "toH5)egin ; so that the most fatal 
consequences threatened : but at length Crassus, stifling his 
resentment, laid dmvn t^is command ; and the other followed 
his example immediately afterwards. 

The next trial between them, was, who should be foremost 
in obtaining the favour of the people. Crassus entertained the 
populace at a thousand different tables, distributed corn to the 
families of the poor, and fed the greater part of the citizens, for 
nearly three months. Pompey, on the' other hand, laboured to 
abrogate the laws made against the peopl^Mteithority by Sylla : 
he restored to the knights, the p ower M^ ffdging, which had 
been fornierly granted them by G^^lnus; and gave back t » 
the tribunes of the people, aH;^their former privileges. It was 

I 



98 HISTORY OF ROME. 

thus that each gave his private aims a puhlic appearance; so 
that what in fact was ambition in both, took with one the nanue 
of hberaHty — with the other, that of freedom. 

An expedition, in which Pompey cleared the !ft^diterranean 
of pirates, having added greatly to bis reputation,^be tribunes 
of the people hoped it would be easy to advance their ^vourite 
still higher; wherefore, Manlius,' one of the number, proposed 
a law, that all the armies of the empire, the government of all 
Asia, together with the management of the war, which^as re- 
newed against Mithridates, shpuld be committed to Pompey 
alone. The law passed with Uttle opposition, and the decree 
was confirmed by all the tribes of the people. 

Thus appointed to the command in that important war, he 
immediately departed for Asia; having made the p'ecessary 
preparations towards forwarding the campaign. Mithridates 
had been obliged, by LucuUus, to take refuge in Lfesser Arme- 
nia; and thither the latter was preparing -jto follow him, when 
his whole army abandoned him ; so that it remained for Pompey 
to terminate the war, which he effected witU great ease and 
expedition ; adding a large ^t^fit of dominion to the Roman 
empire, and returning to Rome, in triumph, at the head of his 
conquering army. 

But all the victories of Pompey served rather to heighten the 
glory, than increase the power of Rome : they only made it a 
more glaring object of ambition, and exposed its liberties to 
greater danger. 

Those liberties, indeed, seemed aevoted to ruin, on every 
side. Even whilst Pompey was pursuing nis conquests abroad, 
Rome was in imminent clanger, from a conspiracy at home. 
This conspiracy Tv^as projected ataj canied on by Sergius 
Catilina, (famiharly called Catiline,) a patrician by birth; who 
resolved to build his own power upon the ruin of his country. 
He was singularly adapted, both by rmture^^and art, to conduct* 
a conspiracy: he was possessed of courage equal to the most w 
desperate attempts, and eloquence to give a colour to his am- 
bition: ruined in his fortune, profligate in his manners, and 
vigilant in pursuing his aims, he was insatiable after wealth, 
only with a view to lavish it on his guilty pleasures. 

Having contracted many debts by the looseness of his ill 
spentJife, he resok^ to extricate himself from them, by any 
meansJ, however uffWj^ful. Accordingly, he assembled about 
thirty of his debauched a^|fciates, and informed them of his 
aims, his hopes, and his plan of operations. It was determined 
amongst them, that a general insurrection should be raised 



HISTORY OF HOME. 99 

throughout Italy ; the different parts of which we-re assigned to 
the different leaders. Rome was to be fired in several places 
at once, and Catiline, at the head of an army raised in Etruria, 
was, in the general confusion, to take possession of the city, 
and massacre all the senators. Lentulus, one of his profligate 
assistants, who had been praetor or judge in the city, was to 
preside in their general councils: Cethegus, a man who sacri- 
ficed the possession of present power, to the hopes of gratify- 
ing his revenge against Cicero, was to direct the massacre 
through the city ; and Csesius was to conduct those who fired 
it. But the vigilance of Cicero being a chief obstacle to their 
designs, Catiline was desirous to see him despatched before 
he left Rome : upon which, two knights of the company un- 
dertook to kill him the next morning, in his bed, during an 
early visit, on pretence of business. But the meeting was no 
sooner over, than Cicero had information of all that had passed. 
By the intrigues of a woman, named Fulvia, he had gained 
over Curius, her lover, one of the conspirators, to send him an 
immediate account of their deliberations. Having observed tlie 
necessary precautions to guard himself against the designs of 
his morning visitors, who were punctual to their appointment, 
he next took care to provide for the defence of the city ; and, 
assembling the senate, consulted what was best to be done, in 
this time of danger. The first step, was to offer considerable 
rewards for further discoveries : the next, to prepare for the 
protection of the state. Catihne, to show how well he 6ould 
dissemble or justify any ciime, v^ent boldly to the senate, de- 
claring his innocence ; but, when confronted by the eloquence 
of Cicero, he hastily withdrew, announcing aloud, that, since 
he was denied a vindication of himself and driven headlong by 
his enemies, he would extinguish the flame which was raised 
about him, in universal ruin. Accordingly, after a short coiw 
ference with Lentulus and Cethegus, he left Rome by night, 
with a small retinue ; directing his way Id Etruria, where Man- 
lius, one of the conspirators, was rais^ing an army to support 
him. In the nnean time, Cicero secured all the conspirators 
who remained in Rome. Lentulus, Cethegus, Csesius, and 
several others, were put in confinement ; and soon afterwards, 
by the command of the senate, being dehvered over to the 
executioners, were strangled in prison. 

Whilst his associates were put to death in the city, Catiline 
had raised an army of twelve-thousand men ; of whom, only a 
fourth part were completely armed ; the rest being furnished 
with what chance afforded — darts, lances, and clubs. Trusting 



100 HISTORY OF ROME. 

to the sole strength of the conspiracy, he refused, at first, to 
enhst slaves, who had flocked to him in great numbers; but, 
on the approach of the consul who was sent against him, and 
tiie arrival of the news that his confederates were put to death 
in Rome, the face of his affairs was entirely changed. His first 
attempt was, therefore, by long marches, to make his escape, 
over the Appenines, into Gaul; but in this, his hopes were 
disappointed, all the passes being strictly guarded by an army 
under Metellus, superior to his own. Thus hemmed in on 
every side, and seeing all things desperate, with nothing left 
him but either to conquer or die, he determined to make one 
vigorous effort against that army which pursued him. Antonius, 
the consul, being himself sick, the command devolved upon his 
lieutenant, Petreius ; who, after a fierce and sanguinary action, 
in which he lost a considerable part of his best troops, put 
Catihne's forces to the rout, and destroyed his whole army, 
which fought desperately to the last man. 

The extinction of this conspiracy seemed only to leave an 
open theatre, in which the ambition of the great might display 
itself. Pompey now returned in triumph from conquering the 
East, as he had before been victorious in Europe and Africa^ 
Crassus, as it has been already observed^ was the richest man 
in Rome, and next to him possessed of the greatest authority: 
his party in the senate was stronger than even that of Pompey, 
his rival; and the envy excited against him was less. They 
had been long disunited by an opposition of interests and of 
character; however, it was from a continuance of their mutual 
jealousies, that the state was in some measure to expect its 
future safety. 

It was in this situation of things, that JuHus Ccesar, who had 
lately gone prcetor into Spain, and had returned with great 
riches and glory, resolved to convert this opposition to his own 
advE^ntage. This celebrated man was nephew to Marius, by 
the female line, and descended from one of the most illustrioua 
families in Rome ; he had already mounted by the regular gra- 
dations of office, having been qusestor, sedile, grand pontiff*, 
and praetor in Spain. Being descended from popular ancestors, 
he warmly espoused the side of the people ; and, shortly after 
the death of Sylia, procured those whom he had banished to 
be recalled. He invariably declared for the populace against 
the senate, and, by this, b^camQ their most favourite magistrate. 
This consummate statesman began by first offering his services 
to Pompey, promising his aid in having all his acts passed, 
notwithstanding the opposition of the senate. Pompey, pleased 



HISTORY OF ROME. , 101 

at the acquisition of a person of so much merit, readily granted 
nini his confidence and protection. He next applied to Crassus, 
who, from former connexions, was disposed to become still 
more nearly his friend. At length, finding neither of them 
averse to a union of interests, he took an opportunity of bring- 
ing them together; and, remonstrating on the advantage, as 
well as the necessity, of a reconciliation, he had address suf- 
ficient, to persuade them to forget their animosities. A com- 
bination was thus formed, by which the three agreed that 
nothing should be done in the commonwealth, but what had re- 
ceived their mutual concurrence and approbation. This was 
called the First Triumvirate; by which, we find the constitution 
weakened by a new interest, very different from that either of 
the senate or the people, and yet dependent upon both. 



CHAPTER XX. 

From the beginning of the First Triumvirate^ to the death of 

Pompey. 

jj p The first thing Csesar did upon the formation of the 
' ' triumvirate, was to avail himself of the inte-st of his 
confederates, to obtain the consulship. The senate 
had still some influence left; and though they were obliged to 
concur in the election, yet they gave him for a collesTgue x>ne 
Bibulus, whom they supposed would be a check upon his, 
power: but the opposition was too strong even for superior 
abilities to resist ; so that Bibulus, after a slight attempt in fa- 
vour of the senate, remained inactive. Csesar began his 
schemes for empire, by ingratiating himself with the people ; 
he procured a law for dividing certain lands in Campania 
amongst such of the poor citizens as had at least three chil- 
dren. This proposal was jusi enough in itself, and criminal 
only from the views of the proposer. 

Having thus strengthened himself at home, he next delibe- 

ated with his confederates about sharing the foreign provinces 
amongst them. The partition was soon made ; Pompey chose 
Spain: — fatigued with conquest, and satiated with military 
fame, he wished to be convenient to the pleasures aff'orded in 
Rome. Crassus fixed upon Syria, for his part of the empire; 
which province, as it had hitherto enriched the generals who 
had subdued it, would, he hoped, gratify him in his most fa- 

I 2 



102 HISTORY OF ROME. 

vourite pursuit. To Ccesar, was left the province of Gaul, 
inhabited by many fierce and powerful nations, most of them 
unsubdued, and the rest only professing a nominal subjection. 
Wherefore, as it was appointing him rather to conquer, than 
command, this government was granted him for five years ; as 
if, by its continuance, to compensate for its danger. 

It woulii be impossible, in this narrow compass, to enume- 
rate all the battles that Caesar fought, and the states that he 
subdued, in his expeditions into Gaul and Britain; which con- 
tinued eight years. The Helvetians were the first brought 
into subjection, with the loss of nearly two-hundred-thousand 
men. Those who remained after the carnage, were sent by 
Caijsar into the forests from which they had issued. The Ger- 
mans, commanded by Ariovistus, were next cut off; their 
monarch himself narrowly escaping, in a little boat, across the 
Rhine. The Belgse sufix;red so severely, that marshes and 
deep rivers were rendered passable from the heaps of slain. 
The Nervians, who were the most warlike of those barbarous 
nations, opposed for a short time.^ and fell upon the Romans 
with such fufy, that their army was in danger of being utterly 
routed; but Caesar himself, hastily seizing a buckler, rushed 
through his army into the midst of the enemy; by which means, 
he so turned the fate of the day, that the barbarians were all 
cut oWj t^ a man. The Celtic Gauls, who were powerful at 
sea, wert> next brought under subjection; and after them, the 
8u.,i, the Menapii, and all the nations from the Mediterranean 
to the British sea. Unsatiated, as yet, with conquest, he 
crossed over to Britain, under pretence that the natives had 
furnished his enemies with supplies. On approaching the 
coast, he found it covered with men, to oppose his landing; 
and his forces were in danger of being driven back, until the 
standard bearer of the tenth legion boldly leapQd ashore, and 
being well assisted by Caesar, the natives were put to flight. 
The Britaiiis, being terrified at Csesar's power, sent to request 
a peace; which was granted them, and some hostages were 
delivered. A storm, however, soon afterwards, destroying a 
great part of his fleet, they resolved to take advantage of the 
disasvor, and marched against him with a powerful army. But 
what could a naked, undisciplined people, do, against forces 
exercised under the greatest genertils, and hardeiied by the con- 
quest of the greater part of the known world? Being over- 
thrown, they were obliged, once more, to sue for peace ; which 
Coesar granted them, and then returned to the continent. 

Thus, ill less than nine years, ha/'csenquered, together witi 



HISTORY OF KOME. 103 

Britain, (the conquest of which was rather nominal than real,) 
all that country which extends from the Mediterranean to the 
German sea. 

Whilst Ca3sar was thus increasing his reputation and his 
riches abroad, Pompey, who remained all the time in Rome, 
steadily co-operated with his ambition; and advanced the in- 
terest of his rival, whilst he vainly supposed he was forwarding' 
his own. By his means, Ctesar was continued five years longer 
in Gaul ; nor was he roused from his lethargy, until the fame 
of that great commander's valour, riches, and humanity, began 
secretly to give him pain, and make him fear that Csesar's 
glory would eclipse his own ; because, being more recent, his 
achievements were more the subject of discourse. He now, 
therefore, used the utmost exertions to diminish his reputation; 
obliging the magistrates not to publish any letters received 
from him, until he had diminished their credit, by spreading 
disadvantageous reports. One or two accidents also helped 
to widen the separation; — the death of Julia, Pompey's wife, 
who had n-ot a little contributed to improve the harmony that 
had subsisted between them ; also the destruction of Crassus, 
who had conducted the war against the Parthians with so little 
prudejlti^e, that he suffered the enemy to gain the advantage 
over him, in almost every skirmish ; and, incapable of extri- 
cating himself from the difficulties in v/hich he was involved, 
had fallen a sact^^^^ to his own rashness; being killed, bravely 
defending himself to the last. 

CsDsar, now sensible of the jealousies of Pompey, took oc- 
casion to solicit for the consulship, together with a prolongation 
of his government in Gaul; desirous of trying whether his rival 
would thwart or promote his pretensions. In this, Pompey 
seemed to be quite inactive; but, at the same time, he pri- 
vately employed two of his creatures, who alleged, in the senate, 
that the laws did not permit a person who was absent, tj» offer 
himself as a candidate for that high office. Pompey's view 
in this, was to allure Ctesar from his government, in order 
to stand for the consulship in person. Caesar, however, per- 
ceiving his artifice, chose to remain in his province ; convinced 
that whilst he headed such an army as was then devoted to his 
interest, he could, at any time, give laws, as well as magistrates, 
to his country. 

The senate, who were now devoted to Pompey, because he 
had for some time Mtempted to defend them from the en-^ 
croachments of the people, ordered home the two legions at 
that time in Caesar's army, belonging to Pompey ; under pre-^ 



104 HISTORY OF ROME. 

tence of opposing the Parthians, but in reality to diminish 
I Caesar's power. He easily saw their motive ; but, as his plans 
^ were not yet ready for execution, he sent them home, in pur- 
^k suance of the orders of the senate ; having previously attached, 
^^ by his liberality, both officers and privates, to his interest. The 
^m next step taken by the senate, was to recall him from his gov- 
^V ernment; his time having now nearly expired. But Curio> 
W his friend in the senate, proposed, that Caesar should not leave 
■ his army until Pompey had set him the example. This for a 
r while perplexed the latter : however, during the debate, one of 
f the senate declaring that Caesar had passed the Alps, and that 
i he was marching, with his whole army, directly towards Rome, 
the consul, immediately quitting the senate, proceeded, with 
his colleague, to a house without the city, where Pompey at 
that time resided. He there presented him with a sword ; com- 
manding him to march against Caesar, and fight in defence of 
the commonwealth. Pompey declared that he was ready to 
obey; but, with an air of pretended moderation, added, that it 
was only in case more gentle expedients could not be employed 
with success. Caesar, though still in Gaul, was instructed, by 
his partisans at Rome, in all that passed ; and, being anxious 
to give his proceedings every appearance of justice, offered to 
resign his employment, when Pompey would do the same. But 
the senate rejected all his propositions; blindly confident of 
their own power, and relying on the assurances of Pompey. 
Caesar, still unwilling to come to an open rupture with the state, 
I proposed for the government of Illyria, with only two legions : 
I but this also was refused hhn. Now, therefore, finding all 
hopes of an accommodation fruitless, and conscious, if not of 
the goodness of his cause, at least of the goodness of his troops, 
he began to draw them down towards the confines of Italy. 
Then, passing the Alps, with his third legion, he stopped at 
Ravenna, a city of Cisalpine Gaul; and once more wrote a 
letter to the consuls, declaring that he was ready to resign all 
command, in case Pompey would follow his example. On the 
other hand, the senate decreed that Caesar should lay down his 
government, and disband his forces, within a limited time ; and, 
if he refused obedience, that he should be declared an enemy 
to the commonwealth. 

Caesar, however, seemed no way disturbed at these violent 

proceedings : the night before his intended expedition into Italy, 

^j^ he sat down to table, cheerfully conversing with his friends on 

subjects of philosophy and literature, and apparently disengaged 

from every ambitious concern. After some time, rising up, he 



HISTORY OF ROME. 105 

desired the company to make themselves happy in his absence ; 
and said that he would be with them in a moment: in the mean 
time, having ordered his chariot to be prepared, he immediately 
set out, attended by a few friends, for Arminium, a city upon 
the confines of Italy, to which place he had despatched a part 
of his army the morning before. This journey, by night, which 
was very fatiguing, he performed with great diligence, some- 
times on foot, and some'^^imes on horseback. At the break of 
day, he came up with his army, which consisted of about five- 
thousand men, near the Rubicon, a little river which separates 
Italy from Gaul, and was the limit of his command. 

The Romans had always been taught to consider this river 
as the sacred boundary of their domestic empire: Csesar, 
therefore, when he advanced at the head of his army to the 
side of the river, stopped short upon the banks, as if impressed 
with terror at the greatness of his enterprise ; he pondered for 
some time in fixed melancholy, looking upon the river, and de^ 
bating with himself, whether he should venture in: — " If I pass 
this river," says he, to one of his generals who stood by him^ 
" what miseries shall I bring upon my country! and, if I now 
stop short, I am undone." Thus saying,, .and resuming all his 
former alacrity, *he plunged in; crying out, that the die was 
cast, and all was now over. His soldiers followed him with 
equal promptitude; and, quickly arriving at Arminium, made 
themselves masters of the place, without meeting any resist- 
ance. 

This unexpected movement excited the utmost terror in 
Rome; every one imagining that Caesar was leading his army 
to lay the city in ruins. At the same time,were to be seen, the 
citizens flying into the country for safety, and the inhabitants 
of the country seeking shelter in Rome. In this universal 
confusion, Pompey felt all that repentance and self condemna- 
tion, which must necessarily arise from the remembrance of 
having advanced his rival to his present pitch of power ; wher- 
ever he appeared, many of his former friends were ready to tax 
him with his supineness, and sarcastically to reproach his ill- 
grounded presumption. " Where is, now," cried Favonius, a 
ridiculous senator of his party, '' the army that is to rise at 
vour command? Let us see if it will appear by stamping." 
Cato reminded him of the many warnings he had given him ; 
to which, however, as he was continually boding nottung- but 
calamities, Pompey might very justly be excused attending. 
But, at length, wearied with these reproaches, which were of- 
fered under colour of advice, he did all that lay in his powef t 



106 HISTORY OF ROME. 

encourage and confirm his followers : he told them that they 
should not want an army, for that he would be their leader. 
He confessed, indeed, that he had invariably mistaken Cgesar's 
aims, judging of them only by what they ought to be ; however, 
if his friends were still inspired with the love of freedom, they 
might yet enjoy it, in any place to which their necessities should 
happen to conduct them. He informed them, that their affairs 
were in a very promising situation ; that his two lieutenants were 
at the head of a very considerable army in Spain, composed of 
veteran troops, who had made the conquest of the East: besides 
these, there were infinite resources, both in Asia and Africa, to- 
gether with the succours which they were sure of receiving from 
all the kingdoms in alliance with Rome. This speech served, 
in some measure, to revive the hopes of the confederacy: the 
greater part of the senate, his own private friends and depend- 
ants, together with all those who expected to make their fortunes 
in his cause, agreed to follow him. Being incapable of resist- 
ing his opponent at home, he resolved to lead his forces to 
Capua, where he commanded the two legions which served 
under Csesar in Gaul. 

Caesar, in the mean time, after having in vain attempted to 
bring Pompey to an accommodation, determined to pursue him 
into Capua, before he could collect his army. Accordingly, 
he marched on, to take possession of the cities that lay between 
him and his rival ; not regarding Rome, which he knew would 
fall, of course, to the conqueror. 

Corsinum was the first city that attempted to stop the rapid- 
ity of his march. It was defended by Domitius, who had been 
appointed by the senate to succeed him in Gaul, and was gar- 
risoned by twenty cohorts, levied in the countries adjacent. 
Ca3sar, however, quickly invested it ; and, though Domitius sent 
frequently to Pompey, exhorting him to come and raise the siege, 
he was at last obliged to attempt making his escape privately. 
His intentions happening to be divulged, the garrison resolved to 
consult their own safety, by delivering him up to the besiegers. 
Caesar readily accepted their offers, but restrained his men 
from immediately entering the town. After some time, Len- 
tulus, the consul, who was one of the besieged, came out, to 
implore forgiveness for himself and the rest of the confederates : 
putting Caesar in mind of their former friendship, and ac- 
know|^ging the many favours he had received at his hands. 
To this, Caesar, who would not wait the conclusion of his 
speech, generously answered, that he came into Italy, not to 
injure the liberties of Rome, but to restore them, and to pro 



HISTORY OF ROME. 107 

tect its citizens. This humane reply being quickly carried into 
the city, the senators and the knights, with their children, and 
some officers of the garrison, came out to claim the conqueror's 
protection ; who, just glancing at their ingratitude, gave t^iem 
their liberty, with permission to go wherever they should think 
proper. However, whilst he dismissed the leaders, he, upon 
this, as upon all similar occasions, took care to attach the com- 
mon soldiers to his own interest ; sensible that he might stand 
in need of an army, but that whilst he lived, his army coula 
never stand in need of a commander. 

Pompey, who was unable to continue in Capua, having in- 
telligence of what passed on this occasion, immediately re- 
treated to Brundusium, where he resolved on standing a siege, 
to retard the enemy, until the forces of the empire should be 
united to oppose him. His aim, in this, succeeded to his wish; 
and, after^having employed Caesar for some time in a fruitless 
attack, he privately passed his forces over to Dyrrachium, 
where the consul had levied a body of forces for his assistance. 
However, though he effected his escape, he was compelled to 
leave the whole kingdom of Italy at the mercy of his rival ; 
without either a town or an army that had strength to oppose 
his progress.. 

Ca3sar, finding that he could not follow Pompey, having no 
shipping, went back to Rome, to take possession of the public 
treasures; which, his opponent, by a most unaccountable over- 
eight, had neglected to carry with him. However, upon his 
advancing as far as the door of the treasury, Metellus, the tri- 
bune who guarded it, refused to let him pass : but Csesar, with 
more than usual emotion, laying his hand upon his sword, 
threatened to strike him dead; *' And know, young man," 
cried he, " that it is easier to do this, than to say it." This 
menace had the desired effect; Metellus retired, and Csesar 
took out of the treasury three-thousand pounds weight of gold, 
besides an immense quantity of silver. 

Having thus provided for continuing the war, he departed 
from Rome; resolved to subdue Pompey's lieutenants, Afranius 
and Petreius, who had been long in Spain at the head of a 
veteran army, composed of the choicest legions of the empire, 
and which had been invariably victorious, under all its com- 
manders. Csesar, however, who knew the abilities of its two- 
present generals, jocosely said, as he was preparing to go 
thither, that he was going to fight an army without sC^ei^iml 
and, upon conquering it, would return to fight a general 
out an army. 



witM||i 



108 HISTORY OF ROME. 

The first conflict with Afranius and Petreius, was rather un- 
favourable. It was fought near the city of Herda; and both 
sides claimed the honour of the victory. But, by various 
stratagems, he reduced them at last to such extremity of 
drought and hunger, that they were obliged to yield at dis- 
cretion. Clemency was his favourite virtue: he dismissed 
them all with the kindest professions, and sent them home 
laden with shame and obligations, to publish his virtues, and 
confirm the affections of his adherents. Thus, in the space of 
about forty days," he became master of all Spain, and returned 
again victorious to Rome. The citizens on this occasion re- 
ceived him with fresh demonstrations of joy, and created him 
dictator and consul; but the first of these offices he laid down, 
after he had held it eleven days. , 

Whilst Csesar was thus employed, Pompey was eqtially as- 
siduous in making preparations in Epirus and Greece^to oppose 
him. All the monarchs of the east had declared in his /avour, 
and sent very large supplies. He was master of nine effective 
Italian legions, and had a fleet of five-hundred large ships,' 
under the conduct of Bibulus, an active and experienced com- 
mander. Added to these, he was supplied with large sums of 
money, and all the necessaries for an army, from the tributary 
provinces around him. He had attacked Antony (properly 
called Marcus Antonius) and Dolabella, who commanded for 
Caesar in that part of the empire, with so great success, that 
the former was obliged to fly, and the latter taken prisoner. 
Crowds of distinguished citizens and nobles from Rome, came 
every day, to join him. He had, at one time, in his camp, 
above two-hundred senators ; amongst whom, were Cicero and 
Cato, whose approbation alone was equivalent to an army. 

Notwithstanding these preparations, Caesar shipped off hvB 
of his twelve legions at Brundusium, and, weighing anchor, 
fortunately steered through the midst of his enemies ; timing it 
so well, that he made his passage in one day. Still, however, 
convinced that the proper juncture for making proposals for 
a peace, was after having gained an advantage, he sent one 
Rufus, whom he had taken prisoner, to effect an accommoda- 
tion with Pompey ; offering to refer all to the senate and people 
of Rome : but he once more rejected the overture, maintain- 
ing that the people were too much in Caesar's interest, to be 
relied on. ^^% :. :^*^' \^ 

mfjffy had been raising suppUes^in Macedonia, when firsi 

Srmed of Caesar's landing upon the coast of Epirus : he now 

erefore resolved to march immediately to Dyrrachiiim, in 



.^^^raforri 
^^^^erel 



HISTORY OF ROME. 109 

order to cover that place from Caesar's attempts; as all his 
ammunition and provisions were deposited there. The two 
armies first came in sight of each other on the opposite banks 
of the river Apsus: and, as both were commanded by the 
two greatest generals then in the world, the one renowned for 
his conquest of the East, the other for his victories in the West, 
a battle was eagerly desired, by the soldiers on each side: but 
neither of the generals was willing to hazard it, on this oc- 
casion: Pompey could not rely upon his new levies, and 
Cassar would not venture^an engagement, until joined by the 
rest of his forces. ^ 

Ceesar had now waited soipe time, with extreme impatience, 
for the arrival of the remainder of his army ; and even ventur- 
ed out alone, in an open fishing boat, to hasten its arrival; but 
was driven back by a storm. However, his disappointment 
was soon relieved, by information of the landing of the troops 
he had long expected, at Appolonia; from which place, they 
were marching to join him, under thg, conduct of Antony and 
Calinus. He therefore decqjMped, in order to meet them, and 
prevent Pofnpey from engagmg them on their march; as he 
lay on that sid^ of the river, where the reinforcements had 
been obliged to land. 

Pompey, bemg compelled to retreat, led his forces to Aspa- 
ragus, near Ii^rachium, where he was certain of being sup- 
plied with every thing necessary for his army, by the numerous 
fleets employed by him along the coasts of Epirus. There, he 
pitched his camp upon a tongue of land (as mariners express 
it) which jutted into the sea, where also was a small harbour 
for ships, in which but few winds could annoy them. Being , ^ 
most advantageously situated, he immediately began to in-"^ 
trench his camp. Csesar, perceiving this, and supposing that 
he was not likely soon to quit so desirable a post, began also 
' to entrench, behind him ; and, as all beyond Pompey's camp, 
towards the land side, was hilly and steep, he built redoubts 
upon the heights, stretching round from shore to shore, and 
then caused lines of communication to be drawn from hill to 
hill; by which, he blocked up the camp of the enemy. He 
hoped, by this blockade, to force his opponent to a battle; 
which he ardently desired, and which the other with equal in- 
dustry, declined. Thus, both sides continued, for some time, 
employed in stratagems ; the one, to annoy, the other, to de- 
fend. Caesar's men daily carried on their works, to straiten 
the enemy : those of Pompey did the same, to enlarge them- 
selves, having the advantage of numbers ; and severely galled 
V K 



110 _ HISTORY OF ROME. 

the adversary, by their slingers and archers. Csesar, however, 
was indefatigable ; he procured Winds or mantelets, made of 
skins, to cover his men whilst at work ; and cut off all the 
water that supplied the enemy's camp, and the forage from his 
horses. But Pompey, at last, resolved to break through his 
lines, and gain some other part of the country, more convenient 
for encampment. Accordingly, having received inforaiation 
of the state of CsBsar's fortifications, from some deserters who 
came over to him, he ordered hi^ light infantry and archers on 
bo£Ad the ships ; with orders to attack the enemy's entrench- 
ments by sea, where they werft^fflBBb^efended. This was 
done so effectually, that, thougj^^^^^^kd his officers used 
their utmost endeavours to cou^^^^^Hppey's designs, yet 
the latter at length gained his pu^H|Jil^^extricstting his army 
from his former station, and encajsoping in another pljELce, by the 
sea, where he had the convenience both of forage rUid of ship- 
ping. Caesar, thus frustrated in his views of blqpking up the 
enemy, resolved at last to force" Pompey to a bat1jl)a<(^o«gh 
upon disadvantageous ift-ms. A skirmish topk Dicie,te*^at- 
tempting to cut off a legion postea in a wood; ^nd™s fought 
on a general engagement. Jhe conflict -^faS} for "i^ome time 
carried on with great ardour, and with equal fortune; but 
Caesar's men, being entangled in the in trench n^its of the old 
camp, bpgan to fall into disorder; upon vvhichWompey press- 
ing his advantage, they at kist'fled with great precipitation. 
Vast numbers perished in the trenches, and on the banks of the 
rivers, or were pressed to death by their followers. Pompey 
pursuedftis successes to the v€ry canip'oF"C8esar; but, either 
surprised by the suddenness of his victory, or fearful of an am- 
buscade, he drew off his troops within his own Unes, and thus 
lost an opportunity of securing his victory. 

After this defeat, which was by no means decisive, Caesar 
marched with all his forces, in.one body, dirgctly to Gomphi, 
a town in the province of Thessaly. BuyjKe news of his de- 
feat at Dyrrachium, had reached this plade before him: the in- 
habitants, therefore, who had promised. him obedience, no^ 
changed their minds ; and, with a degree of baseness equal to 
their imprudence, shut their gates against him. But Csesar 
was not to be injured with impunity. Having represented to 
his soldiers the great advantage of forcing a place so very ricli^ 
he ordered the machines for scaling to be made ready ; and, 
causing an assault, proceeded with so much vigour, that, not- 
withstanding the great height of the walls, the town was taken 
in a few hours, Csesar left it to be plundered ; and, without 



HISTORY OF ROME. Ill 

delaying his march, went forward to Metropolis, another town 
of the same province, which yielded at his approach. By these 
means, he soon became possessed of all Thessaly, except 
Larissa; which was garrisoned by Scipio, who commanded for 
Pompey, and had his own legion under him. During this in- 
terval, Pompey's officers were continually soliciting him to 
come to a battle, and inc^^antly teasing him with their impor- 
tunities; he ther^ore resc^^d to renounce his own judgment, 
in comphance with those about him, and to give up all schemes 
of prudence, for thos e dilu ted by avarice and passion. Where- 
fore, advancing intcyjjj^Raly, within a few days after the tak- 
ing of Gomphi, he dlHBndcd into the plains of Pharsalia, where 
he was joined by Scipio, his lieutenant, with the troops under 
his command. There, he waited the arrival of Caesar; de- 
termined upon engaging, and deciding the fate of the empire, 
at a single battle. 

Cdesar had employed all his art, for some time, in discover- 
ing the inclination of his men; and, finding his army once more 
resolute and vigorous, he caused them to advance towards the 
plains of Pharsalia, where Pompey was then encamped, and 
prepared to oppose him. 

The approach of these two great armies, composed of the 
best and bravest troops in the world, together with the great- 
ness of the prize for which they contended, filled all minds 
with anxiety, though with different expectations. Pompey's 
army, being the more numerous, turned all their thoughts to the 
enjoyment of the victory; Caesar's, very prudently, considered 
only the means of obtaining it: Pompey's army depended on 
their numbers, and their many generals ; Caesar's upon their 
own discipline, and the conduct of their single commander: 
Pompey's partisans hoped much from the justice of their 
cause; Cassar alleged the frequent proposals which he had 
made for peace, without effect. Thus, the views, hopes, and * 
motives, of each, seemed different; but their hatre'^ and an>- 
bition were the same. Caesar, who was always foremost in 
offering battle, led out his army, in array^ to meet the enemy ; 
but Pompey, either suspecting his troops, or dreading the 
event, for some time held his advantageous situation : he drew, 
indeed, occasionally out of his camp, but always remained under 
his. trenches, at the foot of the hill, near which he was posted. 
Caesar, unwilling to attack him at a disadvantage, resolved to' 
decamp the next day ; hoping to harass out bis antagonist, who 
ivas not a match for him in sustaining the fatigues of duty,^ 






112 HISTORY OF KOME. 

Accordingly, the order for marching was given, and the tents 
struck, when information was brought him, that Pompey's army 
bad left their intrenchments, and advanced farther than usual 
into the plain; so that he might engage them at less disadvan- 
tage. He therefore ordered his troops to halt; and, with a 
countenance of joy, informed them, that the happy time was at 
last arrived, for which they had so^jong wished ; and which 
was to crown their glory, and terimnate their fatigues. Upon 
this, he drew up his troops in order, and advanced towards the 
place of battle. His forces did not number above half those 
of Pompey ; the army of the one amounting to above fort}c-five- 
thousand foot, and seven-thousand horsV; that of the other not 
exceeding twenty-two thousand foot, and about a thousand 
horse. This disproportion, particularly in the cavalry, had 
filled Caesar with apprehensions ; wherefore he had some days 
before selected the strongest and nimblest of his foot-soldiers, 
and accustomed them to fight between the ranks of his cavalry. 
By their sssistance, his thousand horse was a match for Pom- 
pey's seven-thousand; and had actually prevailed, in a skir- 
mish, some days before. 

Pompey, on the other hand, had strong expectations of suc- 
cess : he boasted that he could put Caesar's legions to flight, 
without striking a single blow ; presuming, that as soon as the 
armies should be formed, his cavalry, on which he placed his 
greatest expectations, would outflank and surround the enemy. 
Labienus commended this scheme of Pompey; alleging also, 
that the troops, of which Caesar's army was at present composed, 
were but the shadow of those old legions which had fought in 
Britain and Gaul: that all the veterans were worn out, and 
replaced by new levies, made in Cisalpine Gaul. To increase 
the confidence of the army still more, he took an oath, in which 
the rest followed him, never to return to the camp, but with 
victory. In this disposition, and under these advantages, 
Pompey ^ed out his troops. 

His order of battle was good and well judged. In the centre 
and on the two flanks, he placed all the veterans, and distributed 
his newly raised troops between the wings and the main body. 
The Syrian legions were placed in the centre, under the com- 
mand of Scipio: the Spaniards, on whom he greatly relied, 
were put on the right, under Domitius Jillnobarbus ; and on the 
left, were stationed the two legions which Caesar had restored 
in the beginning of the war, led on by Pompey himself; be- 
cause, from that wing he intended to maHe the attack which 



HISTORY OF ROME. 113 

was to gain the day ; and, for the same reason, he had there 
assembled all his horse, slingers, and archers, of which his 
right wing had no need, being covered by the river Enipeus. 

Caesar, likewise, divided his army into three bodies : Domi- 
tius Calvinus commanded in the centre, and Mark Antony on 
the left; whilst he himself led on the right wing, which was to 
oppose the left, under the command of Pompey. It is re- 
markable, that Pompey chose to put himself at the head of 
those troops which werd^ disciplined by Caesar; an incontest- 
ible proof how much he valued them, above any of the rest of 
his army. Cajsar, on the contrary, placed himself at the head 
of his tenth legion, which was indebted for all its merit and 
fame to his own training. As he observed the enemy's nume- 
rous cavalry to be all drawn to one spot, he anticipated Pom- 
pey's intentions; to resist the effects of which, he made a 
draught of six cohorts from his rear line ; and, forming them 
into a separate body, concealed them behind his right wing, 
with instructions not to throw their javelins on the approach of 
Pompey's horse, as it was customary, but to keep them in their 
hands, and push them directly in the faces and the eyes of the 
horsemen; who, being composed of the yojinger part of the 
Roman nobility, valued themselves much upon their beauty, 
and dreaded a scar on the face, more than a wound oti the body. 
He lastly placed his cavalry so as to cover the right of the 
tenth legion, ordering his third line not to march, until they had 
received the signal from him. 

As the armies approached, the two generals went from rank 
to rank, encouraging their men, warming their hopes, and 
lessening their apprehensions. Pompey represented that the 
glorious opportunity which they had so long desired, was now 
before them: ** And indeed," cried he, "what advantage could 
you wish over an enemy, that you are not now possessed off? 
Your numbers, your vigour, your late victory, all assure a 
speedy and an easy conquest of those harassed and broken 
troops, composed of men worn out with age, and impressed 
with the terrors of a recent defeat: but, there is still a stronger 
bulwark for our protection, than our superiority — the justice 
of our cause. You are engaged in the defence of liberty, and 
of your country ; you are supported by its laws and followed 
by its magistrates ; you have the world spectators of your con- 
duct, and wishing you success : on the contrary, he whom you 
oppose, is a robber and an oppressor of his country, and almost 
already sunk by the consciousness of his crimes, as well as the 
bad success of his arms. Show, then, on this occasion, all 

K2 



1 14 HISTORY OF ROME. 

that ardour, and detestation of tyranny, which should animate 
Romans ; and do justice to mankind." 

Csesar, on his side, went amongst his men with that steady 
serenity for which he was so much admired in the midst of 
danger. He insisted on nothing so strongly to his soldiers, as 
his frequent and unsuccessful endeavours for peace. He spoke 
with terror of the blood he was going to shed ; and only plead 
ed the necessity which urged him. He deplored the many brave 
men that were to fall, on both sides ; and the wounds of his 
country, whoever should be victorious. His soldiers answered 
his speech with looks of ardour and impatience ; which, observ- 
ing, he gave the signal to begin. The word on Pompey's side 
was Hercules the invincible — that on Csesar's, Yenus the vic- 
torious. There was only so much space between both armies, 
as to give room for fighting; wherefore Pompey ordered his 
men to receive the first shock without moving out of their 
places; expecting the enemy's ranks would be put into dis- 
order by their motion. — Csesar's soldiers were now rushing 
on with their usual impetuosity, when, perceiving the enemy 
motionless, they all stopped short, as if by general consent, 
and halted in the. midst of their career. A terrible pause en- 
sued ; in which, both armies continued to gaze upon each 
other, with mutual terror and dreadful serenity. At length, 
Caesar's men having taken breath, ran furiously upon the 
enemy; first discharging their javelins, and then drawing their 
swords. The same method was observed by Pompey 's troops ; 
who as vigorously sustained the attack. His cavalry also were 
ordered to charge, at the very onset ; which, with the multitude 
of archers and slingers, soon obliged Csesar's men to give 
ground : whereupon Csesar immediately ordered the six cohorts, 
placed as a reserve, to advance ; with orders to strike at the 
enemy's faces. This had the desired effect: the cavalry, that 
were but just now sure of victory, received an immediate 
check; the unusual method of fighting pursued by the cohorts, 
their aiming entirely at the visages of their assailants, and the 
horribly disfiguring wounds they made, all contributed so much 
to intimidate them, that, instead of defending their persons, 
their only endeavour was to save their faces. A total rout en- 
sued, of their whole body ; which fled in great disof der to the 
neighbouring mountain ; whilst the archers and slingers who 
were thus abandoned, were cut to pieces. Caesar, now com- 
manding the cohorts to pursue their success, and advancing 
himself, charged Pompey's troops upon the flank : a charge, 
which the enemy withstood for some time, with great bravery. 



HISTORY OF ROME. 115 

until he brought up his third line, which had not yet engaged. 
Pompey's infantry, being thus doubly attacked — in front by 
fresh troops, and in the rear by the victorious cohorts, could 
no longer resist, but fled to their camp. The flight began 
amongst the strangers ; though Pompey's right wing still val- 
iantly maintained its ground. Caesar, however, being convinced 
that the victory was certain, with his usual clemency, cried out, 
to pursue the strangers, but to spare the Romans : upon which, 
they all laid down their arms, and received quarter. The 
greatest slaughter was amongst the auxiliaries, who fled on all 
sides, but principally went for safety to the camp. The battle had 
now lasted from the break of day till noon; the weather being 
extremely hot : nevertheless, the conquerors did not remit their 
ardour, being encouraged by the example of their general ; who 
thought his victory not complete, until he was master of the 
enemy's camp. Accordingly, marching on foot at their head, 
he called upon them to follow, and strike the decisive blow. 
The cohorts for some time made a formidable resistance ; and 
particularly a large number of Thracians and other barbarians 
who were left in the camp, for its defence : but nothing could 
withstand the ardour of Caesar's victorious army: they were at 
last driven from their trenches, and all fled to the adjacent 
mountains. 

Csesar, seeing the field and camp strewed with his fallen 
countrymen, was strongly aflected at so melancholy a spec- 
tacle ; and could not avoid crying out, to one who stood near 
him, ^' They would have it so." 

On entering the enemy's camp, every object presented fresh 
instances of the blind presumption and madness of his adver- 
saries : on all sides, were to be seen, tents adorned with ivy 
and branches of myrtle, couches covered with purple, and 
sideboards loaded with plate. Eveiy thing indicated the high.- 
est luxury ; and seemed rather the preparations for a banquet, 
the rejoicings for a victory, than the dispositions for a battle. 
A camp, so richly furnished, might have engaged the attention 
of any troops, except Caesar's ; but there was still something 
to be done ; and he would not permit them to pursue any other 
object than their enemies, until they were entirely subdued. 
A considerable body of these having retired to the adjacent 
hills, he prevailed on his soldiers to join him in the pursuit, in 
order to oblige them to surrender. He began by enclosing 
them with a line drawn at the foot of the mountain ; but they 
quickly aliandoned a post that was not tenable for want of 
water, aLd endeavoured to reach the city of Larissa. Caesar 



I 



116 HISTORY OF ROME. 

led a division of his army by a shorter way, and intercepted j 
their retreat ; drawdng up in order of battle between them and | 
the city. However, these unhappy fugitives once more found I 
protection from a mountain ; at the foot of which ran a rivulet, \ 
which supplied them with water. Now, night approaching, ^ 
Csesar's men were almost spent, and ready to faint with their ^™] 
incessant toil since morning ; yet he prevailed upon them once^^H 
more to renew their labours, and to cut off the rivulet which 
supphed the defendants. The fugitives, thus deprived of att 
hopes of succour or subsistence, sent deputies to the conqueror, 
offering to surrender at discretion. During this interval of ne- 
gotiation, a few senators who were amongst them, took advan* 
tage of the night to escape : the rest, next morning, gave up 
their arms, and experienced the conqueror's clemency. He 
addressed them with great gentleness, and forbade his soldiers 
to offer them any violence, or to take any thing from them. ^ 

Thus, Csesar, by his conduct, gained the most complete vic- 
tory that had ever been acquired; and, by his clemency after 
the battle, seems to have deserved it. His loss was only two- 
hundred men; that of Pompey, fifteen-thousand, Romans and 
auxiliaries : twenty-four-thousand men surrendered themselves 
prisoners of war ; the greater part of whom entered into Csesar's 
army. The senators and Roman knights who fell into his 
hands, he generously allowed to retire, wherever they thought 
pr©per: and the letters received by Pompey from the several 
persons who wished to be thought neutral, he burned, without 
reading; as Pompey had done, on a former occasion. Thus, 
having performed ail the duties of a general and a statesman, 
he sent for the legions which had passed the night in the camp, 
to relieve those which had accompanied him in the pursuit; 
and arrived the same day at Larissa. 

Pompey, who had formerly displayed so great courage and 
abihty, when he saw his cavalry routed, on which he had placed 
his whole dependence, seemed to have lost his reason. Instead 
of endeavouring to remedy this disorder, by rallying those 
troops that fled, or by opposing fresh forces to stop the pro- 
gress of the conquerors, being totally amazed at his first blow, 
he returned to the camp, and in his tent waited the issue of an 
affair, which it was his duty to direct, not to follow. There, 
he remained for some moments without speaking; till being 
told that the camp was attacked, " What," says he, " are 
we pursued to our very intrenchmentsi" and, immediately 
changing his armour for a habit more suitable to his circum- 
fctance^, he fled on horseback to Larissa ; then, seeing that he 



HISTORY OF ROME. 117 

was not pursued, he slackened his pace ; giving way to all the 
agonizing reflections which his deplorable condition must 
naturally have suggested. In this melancholy manner, he 
passed along the vale of Tempe ; and pursuing the river Pe- 
neus, at last arrived at a fisherman's hut, in which he spent the 
night. Thence, he went on board a httle vessel ; and, keeping 
along the sea-shore, he descried a ship of some burthen, which 
seemed preparing to sail, in which he embarked; the master 
of the vessel still paying him the homage due to his former sta- 
tion. From the mouth of the river Peneus, he sailed to A m- 
phipolis; where, finding his affairs desperate, he steered to 
Lesbos, to take in his wife Cornelia, whom he had left there, 
at a distance from the dangers and hurry of the war. She, 
who had long flattered herself with the hopes of victory, felt 
the reverse of fortune in an agony of distress. The messenger, 
whose tears, more than words,, proclaimed the greatness of her 
misfortunes, desired her to hasten, if she expected to see 
Pompey with even one ship, and that not his own. Her grief 
which before was violent, became now insupportable; she 
fainted, and lay a considerable time without any signs of life. 
At length, recovering, and reflecting that it was then no time 
for vain lamentations, she r^ quite through the city, to the sea- 
side. Pompey silently embraced her, and for some time sup- 
ported her in his arms, in fixed despair. 

Accompanied by Cornelia, he now continued his course, 
steering to the south-east; and, stopping at the ports which 
occurred in his passage no longer than was necessary to take 
in provisions. He was at last prevailed on to apply to Ptole- 
ma3us (usually called Ptolemy,) king of Egypt; to whose father, 
Pompey had been a considerable benefactor. Ptolemy, who 
was yet a minor, bed not the government in his own hands ; 
he and his kingdom being under the direction of Photinus, a 
eunuch, and Theodotus, a professor of eloquence. They ad-^ 
vised that Pompey should be invited on shore, and assassinated; 
and accordingly, Achillas, the commander of the forces, and 
Septimius, by birth a Roman, who had formerly been a cen- 
turion in Pompey's army, were appointed to carry their designs 
into execution. Attended by three or four assistants, they 
went into a little bark, and rowed off* from the land, towards 
Pompey's ship, which lay about a mile from the shore. Pom- 
pey, aftei having taken leave of Cornelia, and repeated two 
verses from Sophocles, signifying, that he who trusts his free- 
dom to a tyrant, firom that moment becomes £^ sl^^ve, steppecj 



1 1 8 HISTORY OF ROME. 

into the bark, with only two attendants of his own. They 
had now rowed some distance from the ship ; during which 
time, they had all observed a profound silence : Pompey, there- 
fore, wishing to begin the discourse, accosted Septimius, whose 
face he recollected. " Methinks, friend," cried he, " you and I 
were once fellow soldiers together." Septimius gave only a 
nod with his head, without uttering a word, or showing the 
least civility. Pompey then took out a paper on which he 
had minuted a speech he intended to make to the king; and 
began reading it. In this manner, they approached the shore ; 
and Cornelia, whose concern had never suffered her to lose 
sight of her husband, began to entertain hope when she saw 
the people crowding down along the coasts, as if willing to 
receive him : but her hopes were soon destroyed — that instant, 
as Pompey rose, supporting himself upon his freedman's arm, 
Septimius stabbed him in the back, and was inskmtly seconded 
by Achillas. Pompey, perceiving his death inevitable, only 
disposed himself to meet it with decency; and, covering his 
face with his robe, without uttering a word, with a sigh resign- 
ed himself to his fate. At this horrid sight, Cornelia shrieked 
so loud, as to be heard upon the shore; but the danger she 
herself was in, did not allow the mariners time to look on ; 
they immediately set sail, and the wind proving favourable, for- 
tunately they escaped the pursuit of the Egyptian galleys. 

In the meantime, Pompey's murderers, having cut off his 
head, caused it to be embalmed, the better to preserve the 
features ; designing it for a present to Csesar. The body was 
then thrown upon the strand, exposed to the curiosity of the 
multitude. However, his faithful freedraan, Philip, still remain- 
ed near it; and, when the ciowd had dispersed, he washed it 
in the sea ; then looking around for materials to burn it, he per- 
ceived the wreck of a fishing boat, with which he made a pile. 
Whilst he was thus piously employed, he was accosted by an 
old Roman soldier, who had served under Pompev; in his youth : 
" Who art thou," said he, " that art making these humble pre- 
parations for Pompey's funeral?" Philip having answered that 
he was one of his freedmen: *' Alas," replied the soldier, 
** permit me to share in this honour also : amidst all the miseries 
of my exile, it will be my last sad comfort, that I have been 
able to assist at the funeral of my old commander, and touch 
the body of the bravest general that ever Rome produced." 
Both joined in giving his remains the last sad rites : after this^ 
they collected his ashes, and buried them under a little rising 



HISTORY OF ROME. 119 

earth, scraped together with their hands ; over which, was after- 
wards placed the following inscription: He whose merits de^ 
serve a temple, can now scarcely find a tomb. 



CHAPTER XXI. 

From the destruction of the Commonwealth^ to the establishment 
of the first Emperor, Augustus. 

jy p C^SAR has been much celebrated for his fortune, 
J^^ ' and yet his abilities seem equal to his highest success. 
He possessed many shining qualities, without the mix- 
ture of any defect, except ambition. His talents were such, as 
would have rendered him victorious, at the head of any army 
he commanded ; and he would have governed, in any republic 
that had given him birth. Having now gained a complete vic- 
tory, his success seemed only to increase his activity, and in- 
spire him with fresh resolution to face new dangers. He re- 
solved, therefore, to pursue his last advantage, and follow 
Pompey, to whatever country he should retire; convinced, that 
during his life, though he might gain new triumphs, he never 
could enjoy security. 

Accordingly, losing no time, he set sail for Egypt, and ar- 
rived at Alexandria, with about four thousand men; a very in- 
considerable force, to keep so powerful a kingdom in subjection. 
On landing, the first accounts he received were of Pompey's 
miserable end; and, soon afterwards, one of the murderers 
came, with his head and ring, as a most grateful present to the 
conqueror. But Caesar had too much humanity, to be pleased 
with so horrid a spectacle : he turned away from it, with dis- 
gust, and, after a short pause, gave vent to his pity, in a flood 
of tears. Not long afterwards, he ordered a magnificent tomb 
to be erected to his memory, on the spot where he was mur- 
dered ; and a temple near the place, to Nemesis, the heathen 
goddess who punished those who were cruel to men in adversity. 
It ^tppears that the Egyptians had now some hopes of shaking 
oiF the Roman alliance, which they considered, as in fact it 
was, but a specious subjection. They first began to take of- 
fence at Caesar's carrying before him the ensigns of Roman 
power, as he entered the city. Photinus, also, treated him 
with great disrespect, and even attempted his life. Caesar, 
however* concealed his resentment, until he had a force sufli- 



I 



l!30 HISTORY OF ROME. 

cient to punish his treachery ; and, sending privately for the 
legions which had formerly been enrolled for Pompey's service, 
as being the nearest to Egypt, he in the mean time pretended to 
repose entire confidence in the king's minister; making great 
entertainments, and assisting at the conferences of the philoso-, 
phers, who were very numerous at Alexandria. However, 
when he found himself in no danger from the minister's at- 
tempts, he soon changed his manner, and declared, that being 
Roman consul, it was his duty to settle the succession to the 
Egyptian crown. 

There were, at that time, two pretenders to the throne of 
Egypt: Ptolemy, the acknowledged king, and the celebrated 
Cleopatra, his sister; to whom, by a custom of the country, at 
variance with the Divine law, he was married, and, by their 
father's will, she shared jointly in the succession. Not con- 
tented with a bare participation of power, Cleopatra aimed at 
governing alone; but, being opposed by the Roman senate, 
who confirmed her brother's title to the crown, she was banish- 
ed into Syria, with Arsinoe, her younger sister. Csesar gave 
her new hopes of obtaining the kingdom, and summoned both 
her and her brother to plead their cause before him. Photinus, 
the young king's guardian, disdained to accept this proposal, 
and maintained his rejection by sending an army of twenty- 
thousand men, to besiege him in Alexandria. Caesar, for some 
time, bravely repulsed the enemy; but, finding the city of too 
great extent to be defended by so small an army as he then 
had, he retired to the palace, which commanded the harbour; 
where he proposed to make his stand. Achillas, who headed 
the Egyptians, attacked him there with great vigour; and still 
aimed at obtuining the fleet which lay before the palace. 
Csesar, however, too well knew the value of these ships, in the 
hands of an enemy ; and therefore burned them all, in defiance 
of every attempt to prevent him. He next took possession of 
the isle of Pharos, the key to the Alexandrian port; by which 
he was enabled to receive the supplies sent him from every side; 
and in this situation he determined to withstand the united force 
of all the Egyptians. 

In the mean time, Cleopatra, having heard of the present 
change in her favour, resolved to depend for success rather on 
the assistance of Csesar, than her own forces. But no arts, as 
she justly conceived, were so likely to influence him, as the 
charms of her person ; which, though not faultless, were ex- 
tremely fascinating. She was now in the bloom of youth, and 
everv feature borrowed grace from the lively turn of her tern 



HISTORY OF ROME. 121 

per. To the most enchanting address, she joined the most 
harmonious voice. With all these accomphshments, she pos- 
sessed a great share of the learning of the times, and could 
give audience to the ambassadors of seven different nations, 
without an interpreter. The difficulty was, how to obtain an 
interview with Csesar ; as her enemies were in possession of all 
the avenues that led to the palace. For this purpose, she went 
on board a small vessel, and in the evening landed near the 
palace ; then, being wrapped up in a coverlet, she ^vas carried 
by one Aspolodorus, into the very chamber of Caesar. Her 
address at first pleased him : her wit and understanding still 
fanned the flame; but her caresses, which proceeded beyond 
the bounds of innocence, entirely brought him over to espouse 
her claims. 

Whilst Cleopatra was thus employed in forwarding her own 
views, her sister Arsinoe was also strenuously engaged in the 
camp, in pursuing a separate interest. She had found means, 
by the assistance of one Ganymede, her confidant, to make a 
considerable division in the Egyptian army, in her favour; and, 
soon afterwards, by one of those sudden revolutions, which are 
common in barbarian camps to this day, she caused Achillas to 
be murdered, and Ganymede to take the command in his stead; 
by whom, the siege was carried on with greater vigour than 
before. 

Ganymede's principal effort was by letting in the sea upon 
those canals which supplied the palace with fresh water; but 
Csssar remedied this inconvenience by digging a great number 
of wells. His next endeavour was, to prevent the junction of 
Caesar's twenty-fourth legion; which he twice attempted in 
vain. He soon afterwards made himself master of a bridge 
which joined the Isle of Pharos to the continent; from which 
post, Coesar resolved to dislodge him. In the heat of the action, 
some mariners, partly through curiosity, partly through am- 
bition, came and joined the combatants ; but, being seized with 
a panic, they instantly fled, and produced a general terror 
through the army. All the endeavours of Caesar to rally his 
forces, were fruitless : the confusion was past remedy, and 
numbers were drowned or put to the sword, in attempting to 
escape. Now, therefore, seeing the irreparable disorder of his 
troops, he retired to a ship, in order to reach the palace that 
was just opposite. However, he was no sooner on board, 
than great crowds entered the vessel; upon which, apprehen- 
sive of her sinking, he leaped into the sea, and swam two-hun- 
dred paces to the fleet which lay before the palace ; all tAe 

L 



122 HISTORY OF ROME. 

time holding his Commentaries in his left hand, above water, 
and his coat of mail in his teeth. 

The Alexandrians, finding their exertions to take the place 
ineffectual, endeavoured at least to get their king out of Caesar's 
power ; as he had secured his person in the beginning of their 
disputes. For this purpose, they practised their customary 
dissimulation ; professing the utmost desire of peace, and wish- 
mg the presence of their lawful prince, only to give a sanction 
to the treaty. Caesar, though sensible of their perfidy, con- 
cealed his suspicions, and gave them their king; being under 
no apprehensions from the abilities of a boy. Ptolemy, how- 
ever, the instant he was set at liberty, instead of promoting 
peace, made every effort to give vigour to hostilities. 

In this manner, Csesar was hemmed in, for some time, by his 
artful and insidious enemy, with every difficulty to encounter; 
but he was at last relieved from this mortifying situation, by 
Mithridates Pergamenus, on^ of his most faithful partisans, 
who came with an army to his assistance. This general, hav- 
ing collected a powerful force in Syria, marched into Egypt, 
took the city of Pelusium, repulsed the Egyptian army with 
loss, and at last joining with Csesar, attacked their camp; 
making great slaughter of the enemy. Ptolemy himself, at- 
tempting to escape on board a vessel then sailing down tho 
river, was drowned by the ship's sinking; and Csesar thus be- 
came master of all Egypt, without any further opposition. He 
therefore appointed Cleopatra, and her younger brother, then 
an infant, as joint governors, and drove out Arsinoe, with 
Ganymede, into banishment. 

Having thus given away kingdoms, he now for a while seem- 
ed to relax from the usual activity of his conduct ; captivated 
by the charms of Cleopatra. Instead of quitting Egypt for the 
purpose of terminating the opposition of Pompey's party, he 
there abandoned himself to his pleasures; passing his time 
with the young queen ia feasting and all the excesses of high 
wrought luxury. He even resolved to attend her up the Nile, 
to -^Ethiopia; but the brave veterans, who had long followed 
his fortune, boldly censured his conduct, and refused to be 
partners in so infamous an expedition. Thus, at length, roused 
from his lethargy, he determined to prefer the call of ambition 
to that of love ; and to leave Cleopatra, (by whom he had a 
son, afterwards called Caesario,) in order to oppose Pharnaces, 
the king of Bosphorus, who had made some inroads upon the 
dominions of Rome. 

This prince, who was the son of the great Mithridates, being 



HISTORY OF ROME. 123 

ambitious of recovering his father's dominions, seized upon 
Armenia and Colchis, and overcame Domitius, who had been 
sent against him. Upon Caesar's march to oppose him, Phar- 
naces, who was as much terrified at the name of the general, 
as at the strength of his army, laboured, by all the arts of ne- 
gotiation, to avert the impending danger. Caesar, exasperated 
at his crimes and ingratitude, at first dissembled with the am- 
bassadors; and, using all expedition, fell unexpectedly upon 
the enemy, over whom, in a few hours, he obtained a complete 
victory. Pharnaces attempted to take refuge in his capital, 
but was killed by one of his own commanders : a just punish- 
ment, for his former parricide. Caesar overthrew him with so 
much ease, that in writing to a friend in Rome, he expressed 
the rapidity of his victor}^ in three words — ^' Veni, Vidi, Vici,^^ 
(I came, I saw, I conquered.) A man so accustomed to sus- 
cess, thought a sUght battle scarcely deserved a longer letter. 

Caesar, having settled affairs in this part of the empire, as 
well as time would permit, embarked for Italy; where he ar- 
rived sooner than his enemies expected, but not before the 
situation of things absolutely required. During; his absence, 
he had been elected consul for ^wq years, dictator for one year, 
and tribuae of the people for life. But Antony, who in the 
mean time governed for him, in Rome, had filled the city with 
riot and debauchery; and many commotions ensued, which 
nothing but the arrival of Caesar, so opportunely, could ap- 
pease. However, by his mod::ration and humanity, he soon 
restored tranquillity to the city ; scarcely making any distinction 
between those of his own and the opposite party. Having, by 
gentle means, regained his authority at home, he prepared to 
march into Africa, where Pompey's party had found time to 
rally under Scipio and Cato, assisted by Juba, king of Mauri- 
tania; and, with his usual diligence, landed with a small party 
in Africa, being followed by the rest of his army. Scipio, soon 
afterwards coming to a battle, received a complete and final 
overthrow; in consequence of which, Juba and Petreius, his 
generals, killed each other, in despair. Attempting to escape 
by sea into Spain, Scipio fell in amongst the enemy, who put 
him to death ; so that, of all the generals of that unfortunate 
party, Cato was now the only one that remained. 

This extraordinary man, whom no prosperity could elate, 

nor any misfortune depress, having retired into Africa aftei the 

battle of Pharsalia, had led the wretched remains of that defeat 

^ through burni-ng tracts and deserts, infested with serpents of 

various malignity, and w^s now in the city of Utica, which hv 



124 HISTORY OF ROME. 

had been left to defend. Still, however, in love with even the 
show of Roman government, he had formed the principal citi- 
zens into a senate, and conceived the resolution of defending 
the town. But the enthusiasm of liberty subsiding amongst 
his followers, he resolved no longer to force men to be free, 
who seemed naturally prone to slavery. He now therefore 
desired some of his companions to save themselves by sea, 
and bade others rely upon the clemency of Csesar; observing, 
that, as to himself, he was at last victorious. After supping 
cheerfully with his friends, he retired to his apartment ; where 
he behaved with unusual tenderness to his son, and to all around 
him. When he had come into his bed-chamber, he lay down, 
and began to read Plato's dialogue on the immortality of the 
soul; and, after some time^ happening to cast his eyes to the 
head of his bed, he was much surprised not to find his sword 
there, which had been removed by order of his son, whilst 
they were at supper. Upon this, calling one of his domestics, 
to know what was become of it, and receiving no answer, he 
resumed his studies ; but, some time after, asking again for his 
sword, and perceiving that no one obeyed him, he called his 
servants, one after the other, and, with a peremptory air, de- 
manded it once more. His son soon afterwards came in, and 
with tea^s besought him, in the most humble manner, to change 
his resolution; but, receiving a stern reprimand, he desisted 
from his persuasions. His sword being at length brought him, 
he seemed satisfied; and cried out, " Now, again, I am master 
of myself." He then took up his book, which he read twice 
over, and fell into a sound sleep. Upon awaking, he called to 
one of his freedmen to know if his friends had embarked, or if 
any thing yet remained that could be done to serve them. The 
freedman, assuring him that all was quiet, was again ordered 
to leave the room ; and Cato Was no sooner alone, than he 
stabbed himself through the breast, but not with the force he 
intended ; for, the wound not despatching him, he fell upon his 
bed, and at the same time overturned a table, on which he had 
been drawing some geometrical figures. At the noise he 
made in his fall, the servants gave a shriek, and his son and 
friends immediately entered the room. They found him welter- 
ing in his blood, and his bowels gushed out through the w^ound. 
The physician who attended his family, finding that his intes- 
tines were uninjured, would have replaced them; but when 
Cato recovered his senses, and understood their intention to 
preserve his life, he pushed the physician from him, and, with 
a fierce resolution, tore out his bowels, and expired* 



HISTORY OF ROME. 125 

Upon the death of Cato, the war in Africa having terminated, 
Caesar returned in triumph to Rome. The citizens were as- 
tonished at the magnificence of the procession, and the num- 
ber of the countries he had subdued : it seemed as if he had 
abridged all his former triumphs, to increase the splendour ot 
this. It continued four days. The first was for Gaul; the 
second for Egypt ; the third, for his victories in Asia ; and the 
fourth, for the conquest of Juba, in Africa. His veteran sol- 
diers, all scarred with wounds, and now laid up for life, follow- 
ed their triumphant general, crowned with laurels, and con- 
ducted him to the capitoL To every one of these, he gave a 
sum equal to about one hundred and fifty pounds sterling; 
double that sum to the centurions, and four times as much to 
the superior officers. The citizens also shared his bounty ; to 
each of whom, he distributed ten bushels of corn, ten pounds 
of oil, and a sum of money equal to about forty shiUings. 
After this, he entertained the people at twenty-thousand tables, 
treated them with a combat of gladiators, and filled Rome with 
a concourse of spectators from every part of Italy. 

The people, intoxicated by these allurements of pleasure, 
thought their freedom too small a return for such benefits: 
they seemed eager only to find out new modes of homage, and 
unusual epithets of adulation for their great enslaver. He was 
appointed, by a new title, JVLagister JVForum, or master of the 
morals of the people : he received the appellation of emperor, 
father of his country : his person was declared sacred ; and, in 
short, upon him alone devolved, for life, all the great dignities 
of the state. It must, however, be acknowledged, that so 
much power could not h£fve*been intrusted to better keeping. 
He began his empire by immediately repressing vice, and re- 
warding virtue. He committed the courts of judicature to the 
senators and the knights alone ; by many sumptuary laws, re- 
strained the scandalous luxuries of the rich, and used the most 
prudent methods of repeopling the city, which had been ex-^ 
hausted in the late commotions. 

Having thus restored prosperity to Rome, he again found 
himself under a necessity of going into Spain, to oppose an 
army raised there under the two sons of Pompey, and also 
Labienus, his former general. He proceeded in this expedition 
with his usual celerity; and arrived before the enemy thought 
him yet departed from^Rome. Cneius and Sextus, Pompey's 
sons, profiting by the example of their unhappy father, resolved, 
fts much as possible, to protract the war; so that the first ope-^ 
rations of the two armies weimspent in sieges, and fiuitless 



126 



HISTORY OF ROME. 



attempts to surprise each other. At length, Csesar, after taking 
many cities from the enemy, and pursuing Pompey with un- 
wearied perseverance, compelled him to engage in hattle,upon 
the plains of Munda. At break of day, Pompey drew up his 
men, with great order and precision, on the declivity of a hill. 
Caesar marshalled his forces on the plain below; and, after 
moving a little way from his trenches, he ordered them to halt; 
expecting the enemy would shortly descend the hill. This 
delay caused murmuring amongst his soldiers, whilst Pompey's 
with full vigour poured down upon them ; and a dreadful con- 
flict ensued. The first shock was so tremendous, that Caesar's 
men, who had been hitherto used to conquer, now began to 
waver. Caesar was never before in so much danger : he threw 
himself several times into the very throng of battle. " What," 
cried he, " are you going to give up your general, who is grown 
grey in fighting at your head, to a parcel of boys 1" Upon this, his 
tenth legion exerted themselves with more than former bravery; 
and a party of horse being detached from the camp of Pom- 
pey, by Labienus, in pursuit of a body of Numidian cavalry, 
Caesar cried aloud, that they were flying. This cry instantly 
spread itself through both armies, exciting the one, as much as 
it depressed the other. Now, therefore, the tenth legion press- 
ed forward, and a total rout ensued. Thirty- thousand men were 
killed on Pompey's side, amongst whom was Labienus, whom 
Caesar ordered to be buried with the funeral honours of a gen- 
eral officer. Cneius Pompey escaped with a few horsemen to 
the sea-side, but, finding his passage intercepted, he waa 
obliged to seek for a retreat in rni obscure cavern. He waa 
quickly discovered by some of Caesar's troops, who cut off* his 
head, and carried it to the conqueror. His brother Sextus^ 
however, concealed himself so well, that he escaped all pursuit, 
and afterwards became very formidable .to the people of Rome, 
on account of his piracies. n^ 

Cajsar, by this last blow, subdued all his avowed enemies ; 
and the rest of his life was employed for the advantage of the 
state. He adorned the city with magnificent buildings : he re- 
built Carthage and Corinth, sending colonies to both places : 
he undertook to level several mountains in Italy ; to drain the 
Pontine Marshes,^near Rome, and intended to cut through the 
Isthmus of Pel^onnesus. Thus, with a min^ that could nevei 
remain inactive,Tie pondered mighty projects, beyond the hmita 
of the longest life. But the greatest of all, was his intended 
expedition^gainst the Parthians. By this, he designed to re- 
venge the death of Crassus j|^^|p, hiaiviDg gpnetrated too far 



HISTORY OF ROME. 127 

into their country, was overthrown, taken prisoner, and put to 
a cruel death, by having melted gold poured down his throat, 
as a punishment for his former avarice. Thence, Csesar in- 
tended to pass through Hyrcania, and enter Scythia, along the 
shores of the Caspian Sea, then, to open himself a way through 
the immeasurable forests of Germany, into Gaul, and so return 
to Rome. These were the aims of ambition : the jealousy of 
a few individuals put an end to them all. 

Having been made perpetual dictator, and received from the 
senate accumulated honours, it began to be rumoured that he 
intended to make hin^elf king; and though in fact, he was 
possessed of the power, the people, who had an utter aversion 
to the name, could not bear his using the title. Whether he 
really designed to assume that empty honour, must, to us, for 
ever remain a secret; but certain it is, the unsuspecting open- 
ness of his conduct, displayed something like a confidence in 
the mnocence of his intentions. When informed by those about 
him, of the jealousies of many persons who envied his power, 
he was heard to say, that ha would rather die once by treason, 
than live continually in apprehension. W^hen advised to be- 
ware of Brutus, in whom he had for some time reposed the 
greatest confidence, he opened his breast, all scarred with 
wounds, saying, " Can you think Brutus cares for such poor 
pillage as* this]" And being one night at supper, as his friends 
disputed amongst themselves what death was_easiest, he replied, 
" That which is most sudden, and least foreseen." But, to 
convince the world how little he had to apprehend from ene- 
mies, he disbanded the company of Spanish guards; which 
measure facilitated the design upon his life. ^ 

A deep conspiracy was therefore laid against hina», composed 
of no less than sixty senators. They were still ufe m©re for- 
midable, as the majority were of his own party, who, having 
6een raised above other citizens, felt more strongly the weight , 
of a single superior. At the head of this conspiracy, were, 
Bi^tus, whose life Ca3sar had spared at the battle of Pharsalia, 
an^ Cassius, who was soon afterwards pardoned; both praetors 
for»^he present year. The former made it his chief glory that 
he ->yas descended from that Brutus who first gave liberty to 
Roihe; and the passion for freedom seemed to have been trans- 
mitted, with the blood of his ancestors, down to him. But, 
though he detested tyranny, yet he could not forbear loving the 
tyrant, from whom he had received the most signal benefits. 

The conspirators, to give a colour of justice to their pro- 



128 HISTORY OF ROME. 

ceedings, deferred the execution of their design until the *ide3 
of March, the day on which Caesar was to be offered the crown. 
The augurs had foretold that this day would be fatal to him ; 
and the night preceding, he heard his wife Calpurnia lamenting 
in her sleep: when, being awakened, she confessed to him 
that she had dreamed of his being assassinated in her arms. 
These omens began to change his intentions of going to the 
senate, then, as he had determined : but, one of the conspirators, 
coming in, prevailed upon him to change his resolution ; telling 
him of the reproach that would attend his staying at home, till 
his wife had lucky dreams, and of the preparations made for 
his appearance. As he proceeded to the senate, a slave, who 
hastened to him with information of the conspiracy, attempted 
to come near him, but could not for the crowd. Artemidorus, 
a Greek philosopher, who had discovered the whole plot, de- 
livered him a memorial, containing the heads of the informa- 
tion ; but Csesar gave it, with other papers, to one of his secre- 
taries, without reading, as it was usual in things of this nature. 
Having at length entered the senate-house, where his enemies 
were prepared to receive him, he met one Spurina, an augur, 
who had foretold his danger; to whom, he said, smiling: 
*^ Well, Spurina, the ides of March are come." " Yes," re- 
plied the augur, '' but they are not yet over." 

As soon as Caesar had taken his place, the conspirators ap- 
proached, under pretence of saluting him; and Cimber, who 
was one of them, advanced in a suppliant posture, pretending 
to sue for the pardon of his brother, who had been banished 
by Caesar's order. All the rest of the party seconded him, with 
great earnestness; and Cimber, seeming to sue with still 
greater submission, took hold of the extremity of his robe, 
holding him\o as to prevent his rising. This was the signal 
agreed on. Casca, who was behind, stabbed him, though 
sUghtly, in the shoulder. Caesar instantly turned round, and 
with the steel of his stablet wounded him in the arm. How- 
ever, all the conspirators were now in motion; and, enclosing 
him around, he received a second stab, from an unknown hand, 
in the breast, whilst Cassius wounded him in the* face. He 
still defended himself with great vigour, rushing amongst 
them, and throwing down all who opposed him, until he saw 
Brutus amongst the number of the conspirators ; who, coming 
up, struck his dagger into his thigh. From that moment, 

* Ides, or Idus^ a term anciently used amongst the Romans; the 13th of each 
month, except in March, May, July, and October, in which, it is the 15th. 



HISTORY or ROMlii. 1;29 

Caesar thought no more of defending himself; but, looking on 
Brutus, cried out: " And you too, my son!" Then, covering 
his head, and spreading his robe before him, m order to fall 
with greater decency, he sunk down at the base of Pompey's 
statue, after receiving twenty-three wounds, from hands which 
he vainly supposed he had disarmed by his liberality. 
jj p Csesar was killed in the fifty-sixth year of his age,^ 
^' ^ * and about fourteen years after he began the conquest 
of the world. If we examine his history, we shall be 
at a loss which most to admire, his great abilities, or his won- 
derful fortune. To pretend to say, that, from the beginning, 
he planned the subjection of his native country, is doing no 
great credit to his well known penetration ; as a thousand ob- 
stacles lay in his way, which fortune, rather than conduct, was 
to surmount. No man, therefore, of his sagacity, would have 
begun a scheme, in which the chances of succeeding were so 
many against him : it is more probable, that, like all very suc- 
cessful men, he only made the best of every occurrence ; and, 
his ambition rising with his good fortune, from at first being 
contented with less extensive views, he at last began to think 
of governing the world, when he found scarcely any obstacle 
to oppose his designs. Such is the disposition of man; whose 
cravings after power are always most insatiable when he enjoys 
the greatest share. 

As soon as the conspirators had despatched Csesar, they all 
retired to the Capitol, and guarded its accesses by a body of 
gladiators, which Brutus had in pay. 

The friends of the late dictator perceived that this was the 
time for coming into greater power than before, and for satiating 
their ambition under the veil of promoting justice. Of this 
number, was Antony, whom we have already seen acting as 
heutenant under Caesar, and governing Rome in his absence. 
He was a man of moderate abilities, and excessive vices : am- 
bitious of power, only because it gave to his pleasures a wider 
range ; but skilled in war, to which he had been trained from 
his youth. He held the office of consul for this year ; and re- 
solved, with Lepidus, who, hke himself, was fond of commo- 
tions, to seize this opportunity of gaining that power which 
Caesar had died for usurping. His colleague, therefore, took 
possession of the forum, with a band of soldiers; and Antony, 
being consul, was permitted to command them. His first step 
was to secure all Caesar's money and papers, and the next to 
convoke the senate. Never, had this august assembly been 
convened upon so delicate an occasion: it was to determine 



130 HISTORY OF ROME. 

whether Csesar had b^en a legal magistrate, or a tyrannical 
usurper; and whether those who killed him merited rewards or 
punishments. There were many of these who had received 
all their promotions from Csesar, and had acquired large fortunes 
in consequence of his appointment: to vote him a usurpei, 
therefore, would be to endanger their property, and yet to de- 
clare him innocent, might endanger the state. In this dilemma, 
they seemed wilHng to reconcile extremes ; wherefore, they ap- 
proved all the acts of Csesar, and yet granted a general pardon 
to all the conspirators. 

This decree was very far from giving satisfaction to Antony; 
as it exempted a number of men who were the avowed enemies 
of tyranny, and who would be foremost in opposing his schemes 
of restoring absolute power. As, therefore, the senate had rati- 
fied all the acts of Csesar, without distinction, he formed a 
scheme of making him rule when dead, as imperiously as he 
had done when living. Being in possession of Csesar's books 
of office, he so far gained upon his secretary, as to make him* 
insert whatever he thought proper. By this means, great sums 
of money, which Csesar would never have given, were there 
distributed amongst the people; and every man who had any 
seditious designs against the government, was sure of finding 
a gratuity. Things being in this situation, Antony demanded 
of the senate, that Csesar's funeral obsequies should be per- 
formed; which they could not decently forbid, as they had 
never declared him a tyrant. Accordingly, his body was 
brought forth with the utmost solemnity, into the forum ; and 
Antony, who charged himself vidth these last duties of friend- 
ship, began his operations upon the passions of the people, by 
the ruling motives of private interest. He first read them 
Csesar's will, in which he had left Octavius, his sister's grand- 
son, his heir, permitting him to take the name of Csesar, and 
three parts of his private fortune: Brutus was to inherit in 
case of his death. To the Roman people, were left, the gar- 
dens which he had on the other side of the Tyber; and every 
citizen, in particular, was to receive three hundred sesterces. 
Then, unfolding Csesar's bloody robe, in view of the multitude, 
he took care that they should observe the number of stabs in 
it; and next, he displayed an image, which to them appeared 
the body of Csesar, all covered with wounds. They could no 
longer contain their indignation, but unanimously cried out for 
revenge, and ran with flaming brands from the pile, to set fire 
to the conspirators' houses. In this rage of resentment, meet» 
ing with one Cinna, whom they mistook for another of the same 



HISTORY OF ROME. 131 

name, who was in the conspiracy, they tore him to pieces. 
Those, however, who were concerned in Caesar's murder, 
being well guarded, easily repulsed the multitude; but, per- 
ceiving their violence, they thought it prudent, soon afterwards, 
to retire from the city. 

In the mean time, Antony, who had excited this flame, re- 
solved to profit by the occasion. But, an obstacle to his am- 
bition^seemed to arise from a quarter in which he least expect- 
ed it; from Oct^vius Caesar, afterwards called Augustus, who 
was the grand pephew and adopted son of Julius Caesar. A 
third competitof also for power appeared in Lepidus, a man of 
great riches, and some authority in Rome. At first, the am- 
bition of these three menaced fatal consequences to each 
other ; but, soon afterwards uniting in the common cause, they 
resolved to revenge the death of Caesar, and, dividing all power 
amongst themselves, formed what is called the Second Trium- 
virate. 

The meeting of these three usurpers of their country's free- 
dom, was near Mutina, on a little island of the river Panarus. 
Their mutual suspicions were the cause of their convemlig in 
a place where they could not fear any treachery ; for, even in 
their union, they always retained a diffidence of each other. 
Lepidus first entered; and finding all things safe, made the 
signal for the others to approach. Upon their first meeting 
they embraced ; and Augustus began the conference, by thank- 
ing Antony for his zeal in putting Decimus Brutus to death; 
who, abandoned by his army, was taken as he designed to es- 
cape into Macedonia, and beheaded by Antony's command. 
They then entered upon the business that lay before them, 
without any retrospection of the past. Their conference lasted 
for three days ; and in this period they fixed a division of gov- 
ernment, and determined upon the fate of thousands. The 
result was, that the supreme authority should be lodged in their 
hands, under the title of the triumvirate, for the space of five 
years ; that Antony should have Gaul ; Lepidus, Spain ; and 
Augustus, Africa and the Mediterranean islands. As for 
Italy, and the eastern provinces, they were to remain in com- 
mon, until their general enemy was entirely subdued; and, 
amongst other articles of union, it was agreed, that all whom 
they suspected should be destroyed; of which, each presented 
a list. In these, were comprised, not only the enemies, but 
the friends, of the triumvirate ; as the partisans of one were 
often found amongst the opposers of another. Thus, Lepidus 
gave up his brother Paulus to the vengeance of his colleague; 



132 HISTORY OF ROME. 

Antony permitted the proscription of his uncle I^ucius ; and 
Augustus delivered up the great Cicero, who was, by Antony's 
command, shortly afterwards assassinated ! 

In the mean time, Brutus and Cassius, the principal conspi- 
rators against Caesar, being compelled to leave the city, went 
into Greece, where they persuaded the ,P»cn||^ students at 
Athens to declare in the cause of freedom. Then, parting, 
the former raised a powerful army in Mac^onia and the> adja- 
cent countries, whilst the latter went into Sj^a, where he soon 



became master oftwelve legions, and redflrced his opponent 
Dolabella to so great extremity, thatlae kille(Aimself. Both 
armies soon afterwards joined at Smyrna. The sight of a force 
so formidable, began to revive the declining spirits of the party^^^ 
and to unite still more closely the two generals, between whom 
there had been, some time before, a slight misunderstanding. 
Having quitted Italy lilie distressed exiles, without a single sol- 
dier or town that acknowledged their command, they now found 
themselves at the head of a flourishing army, fuii^ished with all 
the necessaries of war, and in a condition to support a contest, 
on the event of which depended the empire of the world. This 
success in raising levies, was entirely owing to the justice, 
moderation, and humanity of Brutus ; who, in every instance, 
seemed studious of the happiness of his country, in preference 
to his own. 

In this flourishing state of their affairs, they formed a reso- 
lution of going against Cleopatra, who had made great prepara- 
tions to assist their opponents. However, they were diverted 
from this purpose, by information that Augustus and Antony 
were then upon their march, with forty legions, to attack them, 
Brutus, therefore, proposed that their army should pass over 
into Greece and Macedonia, and there meet the enemy : but 
Cassius so far prevailed, as to have the Rhodians and Lycians 
first reduced ; they having refused their usual contributions. 
This determination was immediately put in execution, and ex- 
traordinary supplies were by that means raised ; the Rhodians 
having scarcely any thing left them but their lives. The Ly- 
cians suffered still more severely. Having shut themselves up 
in the city of Xanthus, they defended the place against Brutus, 
with such obstinacy, that neither his arts nor entreaties could 
prevail upon them to surrender. At length, the town being 
set on fire by their attempting to burn the works of the Ro- 
mans, Brutus, instead of laying hold of this opportunity to 
storm the place, made every eflTort to preserve it, entreating his 
soldiers to try all means of extinguishing the fire ; but the des- 



HISTORY OF ROME. 133 

perate frenzy of the citizens, was not to be restrained. Far 
from being obliged to their generous enemy, for the efforts 
which were made to save them, they resolved to perish in the 
flames; and, instead of extinguishing, they did all in their power 
to augment, the fire, by throwing in dry reeds, wood, and all 
kinds of fuel. Nothing could exceed the distress of Brutus, 
on seeing the townsmen thus resolutely bent upon destroying 
themselves; he rode about th^ fortifications, stretching out his 
hands to the Xanthians, and conjuring them to have pity on 
themselves, and their city; but, insensible to his expostulations, 
they rushed into the flames with desperate obstinacy, and the 
whole soon became a heap of undistinguishable ruin. At this 
horrid spectacle, Brutus melted into tears ; offering a reward 
to every soldier who should bring him a Lycian alive ; but the 
aumber of those whom it was possible to save from their own 
fury, amounted to no more than one-hundred-and-fifty. 

Brutus and Cassius met once more at Sardis ; where, after 
ihe usual ceremonies had passed, they resolved to have a pri- 
vate conference. They therefore shut themselves up in the 
first convenient house, with express orders to their servants to 
suffer no interruption. Brutus began, by reprimanding Cassius 
for having disposed of offices, which should always be the re- 
ward of merit; and for having overtaxed the tributary states. 
Cassius retorted the imputation of avarice, with the more bit- 
terness, as he knew the charge to be groundless. The debate 
grew warm, till, from loud speaking, they burst into tears. Their 
friends, who were standing at the door, overheard the increas- 
ing vehemence of their voices, and began to dread the conse- 
quences; when Favonius, who valued himself upon a cynical 
boldness which knew no restraint, entered the room with a jest, 
and calmed their mutual animosity. Cassius readily restrained 
his anger. He wias a man of great abilities, though of uneven 
disposition; not averse to pleasure in private company, and 
on the whole, not very strict in his morals. But the conduct 
of Brutus was always perfectly steady. An even gentleness, 
a noble elevation of sentiment ; a strength of mind, over which 
neither vice nor pleasure could have any influence ; an inflexible 
firmness in the defence of justice, composed the character of 
this great man.* After their conference, night coming on^ 



♦ Such, is the opinion entertained of him hy cotemporary historians ;^ bU^ 
in reference to his assisting in the murder of his friend, or indeed aiding in the 
assassination of Caesar, considered as a magistrate, or even as a private ind^ 
vidual, his conduct will not bear the test of this age, enlightened by the puro 
principles of Christianity and Justice. — Editor, 

M 



134 HISTORY OF ROME. 

Cassius invited Brutus and his friends to an entertainment; 
where freedom and cheerfulness for a while took place of 
political anxiety, and softened the severity of wisdom. 

On returning home, Brutus, as Plutarch tells the story, saw 
a spectre in his tent. He naturally slept but little, and had in- 
creased this state of watchfulness by habit and great sobriety. 
He never allowed himself to sleep in the day time, as was then 
common in Rome ; and only gave so much of the nisrht to re- 
pose, as could barely renew the natural functions. But espe- 
cially now, when oppressed with so many cares, he devoted a 
very short time, after his evening repast, to rest; and, awaking 
about midnight, generally read or studied until morning. It 
Was in the dead of night, when the whole camp was perfectly 
quiet, that Brutus was thus employed in reading, by a lamp, 
that was just expiring. On a sudden, he thought he heard a 
noise, as if somebody entered; and, looking towards the door, 
perceived it open. A gigantic figure, with a frightful aspect, 
stood before him, and continued to gaze upon him with silent 
severity. At last, Brutus had courage to speak to it: '' Art 
thou a demon or a mortal man? and why comest thou to me?" 
" Brutus," replied the phantom, ** I am thy evil genius: thou 
shalt meet me again at Philippi." " Well, then," ar>swered 
Brutus, " we shall meet again." Upon this, the phantom van- 
ished ; and Brutus, calling to his servants, asked if they had 
seen any thing; to which, being answered in the negative, he 
resumed his studies. But as he was struck with so strange an 
occurrence, he mentioned it the next day to Cassius; who, 
being an epicurean, ascribed it to the effect of an imagination 
too much exercised by vigilance and anxiety ; in which opinion, 
he was correct. Brutus appeared satisfied with this solution 
of his late terrors; and as Antony and Augustus were now ad- 
vancing towards Macedonia, he and his colleague passed over 
into Thrace, and drew near to the city of Phihppi, where the 
forces of the triumviri were posted to receive them. 

AH mankind now regarded the approaching armies with soli- 
citude and terror. The empire of the world depended on the 
fate of a battle ; as, from victory, on the one side, they had to 
expect freedom, but on the other, a sovereign with absolute 
oommand. Brutus was the only man who looked upon these 
great events with calmness and tranquillity. Indifferent as to 
success, and satisfied by having done his duty, he said to one 
of his friends: " If I gain the victory, I shall restore liberty to 
my country; if I lose it, by dying, I shall be dehvered from 
•laveiry myself; my condition is fixed, and I run no hazard." 



HISTORY OF ROME. 135 

The republican army consisted of eighty-thodsand foot and 
twenty-thousand horse. That of the triumviri, of one-hundred 
thousand foot, and thirteen-thousand horse. Thus complete 
on both sides, they met and encamped near each other upon^ 
the plains of Philippi, a city on the confines of Thrace. This 
town was situated upon a mountain, towards the west of which 
a plain extended, by a gentle declivity, almost fifteen leagues, 
to the banks of the river Strymon. On this plain, about two 
miles from Philippi, were two little hills, about a mile distant 
from each other, defended on one side by mountains, on the 
other by a marsh, which communicated with the sea. It was 
on these two hills, that Brutus and Cassius fixed their camps : 
the former, on the hill towards the north; the latter, on that 
towards the south ; and, in the intermediate space the} threw 
up lines and a parapet, from one hill to the other. Thus, they 
preserved a firm communication between the two camps, which 
afforded mutual defence. In this commodious situation, they 
could act as they thoxight proper; and give battle only when it 
was thought to their advantage to engage. Behind them, was 
the sea, which furnished them with all kinds of provisions; 
and, at twelve miles distance, the island of Thasos, which 
served them for a Sfeneral maoazine. The triumviri were en- 
camped on the plain below, and were obliged to bring their 
supplies from a place fifteen leagues distant; so that their in- 
terest was to bring on a battle as soon as they possibly could. 
This they offered several times ; drawing out their men from 
the camp, and provoking the enemy to engage. On the con- 
trary, the latter contented themselves with drawing up their 
troops at the head of their camps, but without descending into 
the plain. This resolution of postponing the battle was their 
only resource ; and Cassius, who was aware of his advantage, 
resolved to harass the enemy rather than engage them. But 
Brutus began to suspect the fidelity of some of his officers ; 
and used all his influence to persuade Cassius to change his 
resolution. " I am impatient," said he, " to put an end to the 
miseries of mankind ; and, in that, I have hopes of succeeding, 
whether I fall or conquer." His wishes were soon gratified ; 
for, Antony's soldiers, having with great labour made a road 
through the marsh which lay to the left of Cassius' camp, by 
that means opened a communication with the island of Thasos, 
situated behind them. Both sides, in attempting to take pos- 
session of this road, resolved at length to come to a general 
engagement. This, however, was contrary to the advice of 
Cassius, who declar§(l that he was forced, as Pompey had for- 



136 HISTORY OF ROME. 

merly been, to expose the liberty of Rome to the hazard of a 
single battle. 

The ensuing morning, the two generals gave the signal for 
engaging, and had a short conference before the battle began. 
Cassius desired to know how Brutus intended to act, in case 
they were unsuccessful ; to which, the other repUed : " For- 
merly, in my writings, I condemned the death of Cato, and 
maintained, that avoiding calamities by suicide was an insolent 
attempt against Heaven that sent them ; but I have now altered 
my opinions, and, having given up my life to my country, I think 
I have a right to my own way of ending it; wherefore, I am 
resolved to change a miserable being here, for a better here- 
after, if fortune prove against me." '* Well said, my friend," 
cried Oassius, embracing him; " now, we may venture to face 
the enemy; for either we shall be conquerors ourselves, or we 
shall have no cause to fear those that are so." 

Augustus being sick, the forces of the triumviri were com- 
manded alone by Antony, who began the engagement by a 
vigorous attack upon the hues of Cassius. Brutus, on the other 
side, made a dreadful irruption on those of Augustus, and 
drove forward with so much intrepidity, that he forced them, 
at the very first charge. Upon this, he penetrated as far as ther] 
camp, and cutting in pieces those who were left for its defence,^ 
his troops immediately began to plunder ; but, in the mean time/j 
the lines of Cassius were broken, and his cavalry put to flight.- 
There was no effort that this unfortunate general did not use, t( 
make his infantry stand; himself stopping those that fled, an^ 
seizing the colours to rally. But his valour, alone, was not sufl[i' 
cient to inspire his intimidated army ; wherefore, despairing Oi 
success, he caused himself to be killed by one of his freedmen 
Brutus was soon informed of the defeat of Cassius; and shortl 
after his death, as he drew near the camp, he seemed scarcely 
able to retain the excess of his grief, for a man whom he called 
the last of the Romans. 

But his first care, when he became the sole general, was to 
assemble the dispersed troops of Cassius, and animate them with 
fresh hopes of victory. As they lost all they had possessed by 
the plundering of their camp, he promised them two-thousand 
denarii each man, to make up their losses. This inspired them 
with new ardour: they admired the liberality of their general, 
and with loud shouts proclaimed his former intrepidity. Still, 
however, he had not confidence sufficient to face the enemy, 
who offered him battle the ensuing day. His aim was to starve 
bis adversaries, who were in extreme want of provisions ; their 



HISTORY OF ROME. 137 

fleet having been lately defeated. But his single opinion was 
overruled by the army, who now grew every day more confident 
of their strength, and more arrogant to their new general. He 
was, therefore, at last, after a respite of twenty days, obliged 
to comply with their solicitations to try the fate of a battle. 
Both armies behig drawn out, they remained a considerable 
time opposite each other, without offering to engage. But, it 
is said that Brutus had lost much of his natural ardour, by hav- 
ing seen a spectre the night preceding; however, he encour- 
aged his men as much as possible, and gave the signal for 
another battle. He had, as usual, the advantage, where he 
commanded in person; bearing down the enemy at the head 
of his infantry, and, supported by his cavalry, making very great 
slaughter. But the troops which had belonged to Cassius, 
communicating their terror to the rest of the forces, the whole 
army at last gave way. Brutus, surrounded by the most A^aliant 
of his forces, fought for a long time, with amazing bravery. 
The son of Cato fell fighting by his side, as also the brother 
of Cassius; so that, at length, he was obliged to yield to ne- 
cessity, and fled. In the mean time, the two triumviri, now 
assured of victory, expressly ordered that the general should 
not be suffered to escape, lest he might renew the war. Thus, 
the whole body of the enemy seemed chiefly intent on Brutus 
alone, and his capture seemed inevitable. In this deplorable 
exigence, LuciHus, his friend, resolved, by his own death, to 
effect his general's delivery. On perceiving a body of Thracian 
hdrse closely pursuing Brutus, and just on the point of taking 
him, he boldly threw himself in their way, telling them that he 
was Brutus. The Thracians, overjoyed with so great a prize, 
immediately despatched some of their companions to the army, 
with the news of their suctfess ; and the ardour of the pursuit 
now abating, Antony marched out to meet his prisoner, and to 
hasten his death or insult his misfortunes. He was followed 
by a great number of officers and privates : some silently de- 
ploring the fate of so virtuous a man; others reproaching that 
mean desire of life, for which he consented to undergo cap* 
tivity. Antony, now seeing the Thracians approach, began to 
repare himself for the interview ; but the faithful Lucilius, ad- 
vancing with a cheerful air: *' It is not Brutus," said he, " that 
is taken ; fortune has not yet had the power of committing so 
great an outrage upon virtue. As for my life, it is well given 
in preserving his honour ; take it, for I have deceived you." 
Antony, struck with so much fidelity, pardoned him on the 

M 2 



138 HISTORY OF ROME. 

spot ; and, from that time forward, loaded him with favours, 
and honoured him with his friendship. 

In the mean time, Brutus, with a small number of friends, 
passed over a rivulet; and, night coming on, sat down under a 
rock, which concealed him from the pursuit of the enemy. 
After taking breath for a httle time, and casting his eyes up to 
heaven, he repeated a line from Euripides, containing a wish 
to the gods, " that guilt should not pass, in this life, without 
punishment;" to which, he added another, from the same poet: 
" O virtue! thou empty name, I have worshiped thee as a di- 
vinity; but thou art only the slave of fortune." He then called 
to mind, with great tenderness, those whom he had seen perish 
in battle, and sent out one StratiUus, to obtain some information 
of those that remained ; but he never returned, being killed by 
a party of the enemy's horse. Brutus, judging very rightly of 
his fate, now resolved to die likewise, and spoke to those who 
stood around, to lend him their last sad assistance. None of 
them, however, would render him so melancholy a service. 
He therefore called to one of his slaves, to perform what he s6 
ardently desired: but Strato, his tutor, offered himself; crying 
out, " That it should never be said, that Brutus, in his last ex- 
tremity, stood in need of a slave, for want of a friend." Thus 
saying, and averting his head, he presented the sword's point 
to Brutus, who threw himself upon it, and instantly expired.* 

From the moment of the death of Brutus, the triumviri began 
to act as sovereigns, and to divide the Roman dominions 
amongst them, as theirs, by right of conquest. However, 
though there were apparently three who participated, yet, in 
fact, only two were concerned in the administration; since 
Lepidus was introduced merely to curb the mutual jealousy of 
Antony and Augustus, and had neither interest in the army, 
nor authority over the people. Their first care was to punish 
those whom they formerly marked out for vengeance. Horten- 
sius, Drusus, and Quintilius Varus, all men of the first rank 
in the commonwealth, either killed themselves, or were put to 
death. A senator and his son were ordered to cast lots for 
tneir lives: the father voluntarily offered himself to the execu- 

* In this manner, did the heathens, when overtaken by adyersity, flj fj om 
their worldly sorrows, and rush, unconscious of a Judge, into the presence of 
their Creator! Whei-e was Hope, that balm of life, which sooths us under every 
bereavement? Where was Fortitude, which shields the aMlicted in the day of 
trouble ? Ala3 ! these had not, as yet, their proper influence over the human 
mind. The lignt of true religion has taught us to feel them, and tc view, with 
appalling terror, the horrid crime of suicide. — Editor^ 



HISTORY OF ROME 139 

lioner, and the son stabbed himself before his face. Another 
begged to have the rites of burial after his death; to which, 
Augustus rephed : " That he should find a grave in the vultures 
that devoured him." But chiefly, the people lamented to see 
the head of Brutus brought to Rome, to be thrown at the foot 
of Caesar's statue. His ashes, however, were sent to his wife 
Porcia, Cato's daughter; who, following the example of her 
husband and her father, killed herself, by swallowing burning 
coals. 

It is observed. ^Jiat of all those who had a^^hand in the mur- 
der of Caesar, not one died a natural death. 

The power of the triumviri being thus estiiblished upon the 
ruin of the commonwealth, they now began to think of enjoying 
that homage to which they had aspired. Antony went into 
Greece, to receive the flattery of that refined people, and re- 
mained some time at Athens, conversing amongst the philoso- 
phers, and assisting at their disputes, in person. Thence, he 
passed over into Asia, where all the monarchs of the east, who 
acknowledged the Roman power, came to pay him their obe- 
dience ; whilst the fairest princesses strove to gain his favour, 
by the greatness of their presents, or the allurements of their 
beauty. In this manner, he proceeded, from kingdom to king- 
dom, attended by a crowd of sovereigns ; exacting contribu- 
tions, distributing bounties, and giving away crowns with ca- 
pricious insolence. He presented the kingdom of Cappadocia 
to Sysenes, in prejudice of Ariarathes, only because he found 
pleasure in the beauty of Glaphyra, the mother of the former. 
He settled Herod (called by the ancients Herodes) in the king- 
dom of Judea, and supported him against every opposer. But, 
amongst all the sovereigns of the east who shared his favours, 
none had so large a part as Cleopatra, the celebrated queen of 
Egypt. 

It happened, that Serapion, her governor in the island of 
Cyprus, had formerly furnished some succours to the conspi- 
rators ; and it was thought proper that she should answer for 
his conduct on that occasion. Accordingly, having received 
orders from Antony to appear and exculpate herself, she readily 
complied ; equally conscious of the goodness of her cause, and 
the power of her beauty. She was now in her twenty-seventh 
year ; having by experience improved those allurements, which, 
in earlier age, are seldom attended to. Her address and wit 
were still more highly polished ; and, though some women in 
Rome were her equals in j^eauty, none could rival her in the 
charms of conversation. 



140 HISTORY OF ROME. 

Antony was then in Tarsus, a city of Cilicia, where Cleopatra 
resolved to attend his court in person. She sailed to meet 
him, down the river Cydnus (at the mouth of which the city 
stood,) with the most sumptuous pageantry. Her galley was 
covered with gold ; the sails were of purple, large and floating 
in the wind. The oars of silver swept to the sound of flutes 
and cymbals. She herself lay reclined on a couch, spangled 
with stars of gold, and with such ornaments as poets and 
painters had usually ascribed to Venus. On each side, were 
boys like Cupids, who alternately refreshed her with their fans; 
whilst the most beautiful nymphs, dressed as Naiads and 
Graces, were placed at proper distances around her.. On the 
banks of the river, burned the most exquisite perfumes ; whilst 
an innumerable crowd gazed upon the scene with delight and 
admiration. Antony was captivated by her beauty ; and, sacri- 
ficing business to his passion, shortly afterwards followed her 
into Egypt. There, he continued, in all that ease and softness, 
to which his vicious heart was prone, and which that luxurious 
people were able to supply. 

Whilst he remained thus idle in Egypt, xiugustus, who took 
upon himself to lead back the veteran troops, and settle them in 
Italy, was assiduously employed in providing for their subsist- 
ence. He had promised them lands at home, as a recompense 
for their past services ; but they could not receive the new 
grants, without turning out the former inhabitants. In conse- 
quence of this, multitudes of women, with children in their 
arms, whose tender years and innocence excited universal com- 
passion, daily filled the streets and temples with their distresses. 
Numbers of husbandmen and shepherds came to deprecate the 
conqueror's intention, or to obtain a habitation in some other 
part of the world. Amongst this number, was Yirgil, the poet, 
(to whom mankind owe more than to a thousand conquerors,) 
who in an humble manner begged permission to retain his patri- 
monial farm. Virgil (classically named Virgilius Maro) ob- 
tained his request ; but the rest of his countrymen of Mantua 
and Cremona, were turned out, without mercy. 

Rome, and all Italy, now felt extreme misery : the insolent 
soldiers plundered at will, whilst Sextus Pompey, being master 
of the sea, cut ofi* all foreign communication, and prevented 
the people from receiving their usual supphes of corn. To 
these mischiefs, were added, the commencement of another 
civil war. Fulvia, the wife of Antony, who had been left be- 
hind him at Rome, had experienced, for sometime^ all the rage 
of jealousy, and resolved to try every method of bringing back 



HISTORY OF ROME. 141 

her husband from the arms of Cleopatra. She considered a 
breach with Augustus, as the only means of rousing him from 
his lethargy ; and accordingly, with the assistance of Lucius, 
her brother-in-law, who was consul, and entirely devoted to 
her interest, she began to sow the seeds of dissension. The 
pretext was, that Antony should have a share in the distribution 
of lands, as well as Augustus. This produced negotiations, 
and the latter offered to make the veterans themselves umpires 
in the dispute. Lucius refused to acquiesce; and being at the 
head of more than six legions.^ mostly composed of those who 
were dispossessed, he resolved to compel Augustus to accept 
of whatever terms he should offer. Thus, a new war was ex- 
cited, between Augustus and Antony; or at least the generals 
of the latter assumed the sanction of his name. Augustus, 
however, was victorious: Lucius was hemmed in between two 
armies, and constrained to retreat to Perusia, a city of Etruria, 
where he was closely besieged by the opposite party. He 
made many desperate sallies, and Fulvia did all in her power to 
relieve him; but without success. He was at last, therefore, 
reduced to so great extremity, by famine, that he came out in 
person, and delivered himself up to the mercy of the conqueror, 
who received him very honourably, and generously pardoned 
bun and all his followers. 

Antony, having heard of his brother's overthrow, and his 
wife's being compelled to leave Italy, determined to oppose 
Augustus without delay. He accordingly sailed, at the head 
of a considerable fleet, from Alexandria to Tyre, and thence to 
Cyprus and Rhodes ; and had an interview with Fulvia, at 
Athens. He blamed her much, for occasioning the late dis- 
orders, testified the utmost contempt for her person, and, leaving 
her upon her death bed, at Sycion, hastened into Italy, to fight 
Augustus. They both met at Brundusiurb, and it was thought 
that the flames of civil war were going to blaze out again. The 
forces of Antony were numerous, but mostly inexperienced; 
however, he was assisted by Sextus Pompeius, who, in these 
oppositions of interest, was daily coming into power. Augustus 
was at the head of those veterans, who had always been irre- 
sistible, but who seemed no way disposed to fight against 
Antony, their former general. A negotiation was therefore 
proposed; and, by the activity of Cocceius, a friend to both, a 
reconciliation was effected. All offences were mutually for- 
given; and, to cement the union, a marriage was concluded be- 
tween Antony and Octavia, the sister of Augustus. Anew 
division of the Roman empire was made : Augustus was to 



I 



142 HISTORY OF ROME 

have the command of the west, Antony of the east, whilst 
Lepidus was obUged to content himself with the provinces in 
Africa. Sextus Pompeius was permitted to retain all those 
islands of which he was already in possession, together with 
Peloponnesus : he was also granted the privilege of demand- 
ing the consulship in his absence, and of discharging the 
duties of that office by any of his friends. It was likewise 
stipulated to leave the sea open, and to pay the people what 
corn was due out of Sicily. Thus, a general peace was con- 
cluded, to the great satisfaction of the people, who expected a 
cessation from ail their calamities. 

This calm had continued for some time, when Antony led 
his forces against the Parthians, over whom his lieutenant 
Yentidius had gained several advantages ; Augustus drew the 
greater part of his army into Gaul, where there were some dis- 
turbances ; and Pompey went to secure his newly ceded pro- 
vinces to his interest. It was in this quarter that fresh motives 
were given for recommencing the war. Antony, who was 
obliged by treaty to quit Peloponnesus, refused to evacuate it, 
until Pompey would satisfy him for those debts which were due 
to him by the inhabitants. With this, he would by no means 
comply, but immediately fitted out another fleet, and again be- 
gan his enterprises, by cutting off all the corn and provisions 
that were consigned to Italy. Thus, the grievances of the 
poor we»"e again renewed, and the people began to complain, 
that instead of three tyrants, they were then oppressed by four. 

In this exigence, Augustus, who had long meditated on the 
best means of diminishing the number, determined to begin by 
getting rid of Pompey, who kept the state in continual alarm. 
He was master of two fleets ; one, which he had caused to be 
built at Ravenna, and another, which Mendorus, who revolted 
from Pompey, brought to his aid. His first attempt was to in^ 
vade Sicily; brjt, being overpowered in his passage by Pompey, 
and afterwards shattered in a storm, he was obliged to defer 
his designs, until the ensuing year. During this interval, he 
was reinforced by a noble fleet of one-hundred-and- twenty 
ships, given him by Antony, with which he resolved once more 
to invade Sicily, on three several quarters. But fortune seem- 
ed still determined to oppose him : he was a second time dis- 
abled by a storm ; which so raised the vanity of Pompey, that 
he began to style himself the son of Neptune. However, 
Augustus was not to be intimidated, by any disasters : having 
quickly refitted his navy, and recruited his forces, he gave the 
command of both to Agrippa, his faithful friend snid associate 



HISTORY OF ROME. 143 

in war. Agrippa proved himself worthy of the trust reposed 
in him: he began his operations by a victory over Pompey; 
and, though he was shortly afterwards worsted himself, he soon 
gave his adversary a complete and final overthrow. Thus un- 
done, Pompey resolved to fly to Antony, from whom he ex- 
pected shelter, as he had formerly obliged that triumvir by 
giving protection to his mother. However, a gleam of hope 
appearing, he tried once more, at the head of a small body of 
men, to make himself independent, and even surprised Antony's 
lieutenants, who had been sent to accept of his submission. 
Nevertheless, he was at last abandoned by his soldiers, and 
delivered up to Titus, Antony's lieutenant, who shortly after 
wards caused him to be slain. 

The death of this general removed one very powerful ob- 
stacle to the ambition of Augustus; and he determined to take 
the earliest opportunity to get rid of the rest of his associates. 

An offence, soon after this, was furnished by Lepidus, which 
served as a sufficient pretext to Augustus, for depriving him of 
his share in the triumvirate. Being at the head of twenty-two 
legions, with a strong body of cavalry, he idly supposed that 
his present power was more than an equivalent to the popularity 
of Augustus. He therefore resolved upon adding Sicily, where 
he then was, to his province ; pretending a right, as he had first 
invaded it. Augustus sent to expostulate upon these proceed- 
ings ; but the other fiercely replied, that he was determined to 
have a share in the administration, and would no longer sub- 
mit to let one alone possess all the authority. Augustus was 
previously informed of the disposition of Lepidus' soldiers, for 
he had, by his intrigues and largesses, entirely attached them to 
himself. Wherefore, without further delay, he with great bold- 
ness went unattended to the camp of Lepidus, and with no 
other assistance than his private bounties, and the respect he 
had gained by his former victories, deposed his rival Lepidus 
was deprived of all his authority, and banished to Circseum, 
where he continued the rest of his life, despised by 1 is friends, 
and, to all, a melancholy object of blasted ambition. 

There now remained only one obstruction in his w^y, which 
was Antony, whom he resolved to remove ; and for that pur- 
pose began to render his character as contemptible as he pos- 
sibly could, at Rome. Antony's conduct did not a little con- 
tribute to promote the endeavours of his ambitious partner. 
Having marched against the Parthians, with a very powerful 
army, he was forced to return, with the loss of a fourth part, 
and all his baggage. However, Antony seemed quite regard- 



144 HISTORY OF ROME. 

less of contempt : alive only to pleasure, and totally neglecting 
the business of the state, he spent whole days and nights in the 
company of Cleopatra, who studied every means to increase 
his passion, and vary his entertainments. Few women have 
been so much celebrated, for the art of giving novelty to plea- 
sure, and making trifles important : still ingenious in filling up' 
the languid pauses of sensual delight, with some new mode of 
refinement, she was at one time a queen, then a bacchanal, and 
sometimes a huntress. She formed a society, call the In- 
imitable ; and those of the court who made the most sumptuous 
entertainments, carried away the prize. Not contented with 
sharing in her compaay all the delights which Egypt could af- 
ford, Antony determined to enlarge his sphere of luxury, by 
granting her many of those kingdoms which belonged to the 
Roman empire. He gave her all Phoenicia, Coelo Syria, and 
Cyprus, with a great part of Cilicia, Arabia, and Judea; gifts 
which he had no right to bestow, but which he pretended to 
grant in imitation of Hercules. This complication of vice and 
folly, at last totally exasperated the Romans; and Augustus, 
willing to take the advantage of their resentment, took care to 
exaggerate all his defects. At length, when he found the people 
sufficiently irritated against him, he sent Octavia, who was then 
at Rome, to Antony, ostensively with a view of reclaiming her 
husband; but, in fact, to furnish a reasonable pretext for de- 
claring war against him, as he knew she would be dismissed 
with contempt. 

Antony was then at the city of Leucopolis, revelling mth his 
insidious paramour, when he heard that Octavia w^as at Athens, 
upon her journey to visit him. This was very unwelcome 
news, as well to him as Cleopatra; who, fearing the charms 
of her rival, endeavoured to convince Antony of the strength 
of her passion, by her sighs, languishing looks, and well feigned 
melancholy. He frequently caught her in tears, which she 
seemed anxious to conceal ; and often entreated her to tell him 
the cause, which she seemed as if willing to suppress. These 
artifices, together with the ceaseless flattery and importunity 
of her creatures, prevailed so much over Antony's weakness, 
that he commanded Octavia to return home, without seeing 
her; and, still more to exasperate the people of Rome, he re- 
solved to repudiate her, and take Cleopatra as his wife. He 
accordingly assembled the people of Alexandria, in the public 
theatre, where was raised an alcove of silver, under which were 
placed two thrones of gold; one for himself, the other for 
Cleopatra. There, he seated himself, dressed as BacchuSi 



HISTORY OF ROME. 145 

whilst Cleopatra sat beside him, clothed in the ornaments 
and attributes of Isis, the principal deity of the Egyptians. 
On that occasion, he declared her queen of all the countries 
which he had already given her; and associated Csesario, her 
son by Caesar, as her partner in the government. To each of 
her two children, of which he was the father, he gave the title 
of king of kings, with very extensive dominions ; and, to crown 
his absurdities, he next sent a minute account of his proceed- 
ings to the two consuls at Rome. ^jr^A /M 

In the mean time, Augustus had a sufficient pretext for de^ j 
daring war, and informed the senate of his intentions. How- 
ever, he deferred the execution of his design for a while, being 
then employed in quelling an insurrection of the Illyrians^''''''i 
The following year was chiefly taken up in preparations against ^ 
Antony; who, perceiving his design, remonstrated to the senate. '■' 
He stated that he had many causes of complaint against his 
colleague, who had seized upon Sicily without affording him a 
share, dispossessed Lepidus, and retained to himself the pro- 
vince he had commanded : that he had divided all Italy amongst 
his own soldiers, leaving nothing to recompense those in Asia. 
To this complaint, Augustus was contented to make a sarcastic 
answer ; implying, that it was absurd to complain of his distri- 
bution of a few trifling districts in Italy, when Antony, having 
conquered Parthia, might now reward his soldiers with cities 
and provinces. This sarcasm provoked him to send his army, 
without" intefinission, into Europe, to meet Augustus; whilst 
he and CI^i|)atra followed to Samos, in order to prepare for 
carrying ^n th<e war with vigour. When arrived there, it was 
extremely ridiculous, to behold the odd mixture of preparations 
for pleasute and for war. On one side, all the kings and 
princes, from Egypt to the Euxine sea, had orders to send him 
supplies of men, provisions, and arms: on the other, all the 
comedians, dancers, buffoons, and musicians of Greece, wer« 
ordered to attend him. 

These delays, first at Samos, and afterwards at Athens, 
whither he carried Cleopatra, to receive new honours, were ex- 
tremely favourable to the arms of Augustus, who was at first 
scarcely in a disposition to oppose him, had he gone into Italy. 
But he soon found time to put himself in a condition for carry- 
ing on the war, and shortly afterwards declared it against him j, 
in form. At length, both sides found themselves in readiness I 
to take the field, and their armies were commensurate with the 
empire for which they contended. The one was followed by 
all the forces of the east; the other drew all the strength of 



146 HISTORY OF ROME. 

the west to support his pretensions. Antony's forces composed 
a body of one-hundred-thoiisand foot, and twelve-thousand 
horse, whilst his fleet amounted to five-hundred ships of war* 
The army of Augustus mustered only eighty-thousand foot, but 
equalled his adversary's in the number of cavalry : his fleet was 
but half as numerous as Antony's ; however, his ships were 
more firmly built, and manned with better soldiers. 

The great naval engagement, which proved decisive, was 
fought near Actium, a city of Epirus, at the entrance of the 
Gulf of Ambracia. Antony ranged his forces at the month of 
the Gulf, and Augustus drew up his fleet in opposition. 
Neithei of the generals assumed any fixed station to command 
in, but went about from ship to ship, wherever the presence of 
either was required. In the mean time, the two land armies 
on opposite sides of the Gulf, were drawn up merely as specta- 
tors, and, by their shouts, encouraged the fleet to engage* 
The battle began, on both sides, with great ardour, and after a 
manner not practised on former occasions. The prows of their 
vessels were armed with brazen points; and with these they 
drove vehemently against each other. They fought for some 
time with great fury ; nor was there any advantage, on either 
side, except a small appearance of disorder in the centre of 
Antony's fleet. But all at once Cleopatra- determined the for- 
tune of the day. She was seen flying from the engagement, 
attended by sixty sail; struck perhaps with the terrors natural 
to hei sex: but what increased the general amazea[ient was, to 
behold Antony himself soon following. His fleet, after an in- 
effectual struggle, submitted to the conquerors ; and the army 
on land in a short time imitated the example. 

When Cleopatra fled, Antony pursued her in a five-oar'd 
galley, and, coming along side of her ship, entered it; neither 
of them seeing the other. 

She was in the stern, and he went to the prow, where he re- 
mained for some time silent, holding his head between his 
hands. In this manner, he continued for three whole days ; 
during which, either through shame or indignation, he neither 
saw nor spoke to Cleopatra. At last, when arrived at the pro- 
montory of Tenarus, the queen's female attendants reconciled 
them, and every thing went on as before. Still, however, he 
had the consolation to suppose that his soldiers continued faith- 
ful to him, and accordingly despatched orders to his lieutenant, 
Canidius, to conduct them into Asia. However, he was soon 
undeceived, when he arrived in Africa, where he was informed 
of their submission to hie rival. This account so transported 



HISTORY OF ROME. 147 

him with rage, that it was with difficulty he was prevented from 
killing himself; but at length, by the entreaties of his friends, 
he returned to Alexandria. Cleopatra, however, seemed to 
retain in her misfortunes, that strength of mind, which had ut- 
terly abandoned her admirer. Having, by means of confisca- 
tion and other acts of violence, amassed considerable riches, 
she formed a very extraordinary and unparalleled project; this 
was to convey her whole fleet over the Isthmus of Suez, into 
the Red Sea; and thereby save herself, with all her treasures, 
in another region, beyond the reach of Rome. Some of her 
vessels were actually transported thither, pursuant to her or- 
ders; but the Arabians having burned them, and Antony dis- 
suading her from the design, she abandoned it, for a more dif- 
ficult scheme — that of defending Egypt against the conqueror. 
She omitted nothing in her power to put this determination in 
practice, and made the necessary preparations for war ; hoping 
thereby to obtain at least better terms from Augustus. She had 
always admired Antony's fortunes, rathci than his person; and, 
if she could have devised any method of saving herself, though 
at his expense, there is no doubt that she would have gladly 
embraced it. Even yet, she had some hopes from the power 
of her charms, though arrived almost at the age of forty ; and 
was desirous of trying upon Augustus those arts which had 
been successful with the greatest men of Rome. Thus, in 
three embassies, which were sent, one after another, from 
Antony, to Augustus, in Asia, the queen had always her secret 
agents charged with particular proposals in her name. Antony 
desired no more than that his life might be spared, and that he 
might have leave to pass the remainder of his days in obscurity. 
-To these requests, Augustus made no reply. Cleopatra sent him 
also public proposals in favour of her children; but at the same 
time privately resigned him her crown, with all the ensigns of 
royalty. To the queen's public offers, no answer was given r 
to the other he replied, by giving her assurance of his favour 
in case she sent away Antony, or put him to death. These 
negotiations, however, came to the knowledge of Antony, whose 
jealousy and rage every occurrence now contributed to 
heighten. He built a small solitary house, upon a mole in the 
sea, and shut himself up, a prey to all those passions that are 
the tormentors of unsuccessful tyranny. There he passed his 
time, shunning all commerce with mankind, and professing to 
imitate Timon, the man-hater. However, his furious jealousy 
drove him, even from this retreat, into society: hearing that 
Cleopatra had manj^ secret conferences with one Thyrsus, an 



148 HISTORY OF ROME. 

emissary of Augustus, he seized him, and, after having him 
cruelly scourged, sent him back to his patron. At the same 
time, he forwarded letters, importing that he had chastised 
Thyrsus, for insulting a m.an in misfortune; but he gave 
Augustus permission to revenge himself, by punishing Hip- 
parchus, Antony's freedman, in the same manner. The re- 
venge in this case would have been highly pleasing to Antony, 
as Hipparchus had left him, to join the fortunes of his mor 
successful rival. 

Meanwhile, the operations of the war were carried vigorously 
forward, and Egypt soon afterwards became again the theatre 
of the contending armies of Rome. Gallus, the lieutenant of 
Augustus, took Paretonium, which opened the whole country 
to his incursions. On the other side, Antony, who had still 
considerable forces by sea and land, endeavoured to retake that 
important place from the enemy. He therefore marched to- 
wards it, flattering himself, that as soon as he should be seen 
by the legions which he had once command'^d, the affection 
for their ancient general would revive. He approached, there- 
fore, and exhorted them to remember their former vows of 
fidelity to him. Gallus, however, ordered all the trumpets to 
sound, to prevent Antony from being heard ; so that he was 
obliged to retire. 

Augustus himself was then marching, with another army, to 
attack Pelusium, which, by its strong situation, might have re- 
tarded his progress for some time. But the governor, either 
wanting courage to defend it, or previously instructed by Cle- 
opatra to give it up, permitted him to take possession of the 
place; so that Augustus had now no obstacle in his way to 
Alexandria, whither he marched, with all expedition. An- 
tony, on his arrival, sallied out to oppose him, fighting with 
great desperation, and putting the enemy's cavalry to flight 
This trifling advantage once more revived his declining hopes ; 
and, being naturally vain, he re-entered Alexandria in triumph. 
Then going, armed as he was, to the palace, he embraced 
Cleopatra, and introduced to her a soldier who had distinguish- 
ed himself in the last engagement. The queen rewarded him 
very magnificently, presenting him with a head-piece and 
breastplate of gold. With these, however, the soldier went 
off* the next night, to the other army ; intending to secure his 
riches, by keeping on the strongest side. Antony could not 
bear this defection without fresh indignation: he determined, 
therefore, to make a bold expiring effort, by sea and land ; but 
previously oflTered to fight his adversary in single combat 



HISTORY OF ROME. 1 .9 

Augustus too well appreciated the inequality of their siiua- 
tions, to comply with this forlorn proposal ; he only therefore, 
coolly replied, that Antony had ways enough to die, besides by 
single combat. 

The day afterwards, he posted the few troops which he had 
yet remaining, upon a rising ground near the city; from which, 
he sent orders to his galleys to engage the enemy. There, he 
waited to be a spectator of the combat; and at first, he had tha 
satisfaction to see his vessels advance in good order; but his 
approbation was soon turned into rage, when he saw them only 
saluting those of Augustus, and both fleets uniting and sailing 
back into the harbour. At the very same time, his cavalry de- 
serted him. He tried, however, to lead on his infantry, which 
were easily vanquished ; and he himself was compelled to re- 
turn into the town. His anger was now ungovernable. He 
could not avoid crying out, as he passed, that he was betrayed 
by Cleopatra, and delivered by her to those, who, for her sake 
alone, were his enemiog. In these suspicions, he was per- 
fectly correct ; for it v, as by secret orders from the queen, that 
the fleet had gone over to the enemy. 

Cleopatra had, for a long while, dreaded the effects of 
Antony's jealousy; and, some time before, had prepared a 
method of obviating any sudden sallies it might produce. Near 
the temple of Isis she had erected a building, seemingly de- 
signed for a sepulchre. Thither, she removed all her treasures 
and most valuable effects; covering them over with torches,, 
fagots, and other combustible matter. This sepulchre she de- 
signed to answer a double purpose; as well to screen her from 
the sudden resentments of Antony, as to make Augustus believe 
that she would burn all her treasures, in case he refused her 
proper terms of capitulation. Here, therefore, she retired from 
Antony's present fury ; shutting the gates, which were fortified 
with bolts and bars of iron. In the mean time, she gave orders 
that a report should be spread of her death ; which news soon 
reached Antony, and recalled all his former tenderness and 
love. This poor wretch was now subject to the gust of every 
passion, and each of them in an extreme : he now lamented 
her death, with the same violence he had but a few minutes be- 
fore seemed to desire it. " Wretched man," cried he to him- 
self, " what is there now worth hving for, since all that could 
soothe or soften my cares is departed? Cleopatra!" con^ 
tinned he, " our separation does not so much afflict me, as the 
disgrace I suffer, in permitting a woman to instruct me in the 
ways of dying." Being now in his chamber;^ he called one of 

N 2 



150 HISTORY OF ROME. 

his freedmen, named Eros, whom he had engaged, by oath, to 
kill him, whenever fortune should drive him to this sad ex- 
tremity. Eros being commanded to perform his promise, this 
faithful follower drew the sword, as if going to execute his 
orders; but, averting his face, he plunged it into his own bosom, 
and died at his master's feet. Antony for a while hung ovei 
his servant, and commending his fidelity, took up the sword, 
with which stabbing himself in the body, he fell backwards 
upon a couch. Though the wound was mortal, yet, the blood 
stopping, he recovered his spirits, and earnestly conjured those 
who came into the room, to put an end to his life ; but they all 
fled, being seized with affright and horror. He therefore con- 
tinued in this manner for some time, still crying out and writh- 
ing with pain, until he was informed, by one of the queen's 
secretaries, that his mistress was still alive. He then eagerly 
desired to be carried to the place where she was. They ac- 
cordingly brought him to the gate of the sepulchre ; but Cleo- 
patra, who would not permit it to be opened, appeared at the 
window, and threw down cords, by which, with some difficulty, 
they pulled him up. He was gently laid upon a couch ; she 
giving way to her sorrow, by tearing her clothes, beating hoi 
breast, and kissing the wound of which he was dying. Antony 
entreated her to moderate the transports of her grief, asked for 
wine, and exhorted her not to lament for his misfortunes, but 
to congratulate him upon his former felicity : to consider him 
as one who had lived the most powerful of men, and at last 
died by the hand of a Roman. Just as he had done speakings 
he expired ; and Proculus made his appearance, by command 
of Augustus, who had been informed of Antony's desperate 
conduct. He was sent to try all means of getting Cleopatra 
into his power; Augustus having a double motive for his soli- 
citude on this occasion: one, to prevent her destroying the 
treasures she had taken with her into the tomb ; the other, to 
preserve her person to grace l^is triumph. Cleopatra, however, 
was upon her guard, and would not confer with Proculus, ex- 
cept through the gate, which was very well secured. In the 
mean time, Gallus, one of Augustus' soldiers, entered, with 
two more, by the window at which Antony had been drawn up, 
upon which, Cleopatra, perceiving what happened, drew a 
poignard, and attempted to stab herself, but was prevented. 

Augustus was extremely pleased, at finding her in his power: 
he sent Epaphroditus, to bring her to his palace, with di- 
rections to watch her with the utmost circumspection. He was 
likewise ordered to treat her in every respect with that def» 



HISTORY OF ROME. 151 

^rence and submission, which were due to her rank ; and to do 
every thing in his power to lessen the tediousness of captivity. 
She was permitted to have the honour of granting Antony the 
rites of burial, and furnished with every thing she desired that 
was becoming his dignity to receive, or her love to offer. Yei 
still she languished under her new confinement : her excessive 
sorrow, her many losses, and the blows she had given her 
bosom, produced a fever, which she seemed willing to increase. 
She determined to abstain from nourishment, under pretence 
of a regimen necessary for her disorder; but Augustus, being 
informed by her physician of her real motive, began to threaten 
her with regard to her children, in case she persisted. 

In the mean time, Augustus made his entry into Alexandria ; 
taking care to mitigate the fears of the inhabitants, by con^ 
versing familiarly, as he went along, with Areus, a philosopher 
and native of the place. The citizens, however, trembled at his 
approach ; and when he placed himself upon the tribunal, they 
prostrated themselves before him, with their faces to the 
ground, as criminals who waited the sentence of their execu- 
tion. Augustus presently ordered them to rise, telling them 
that three motives induced him to pardon them : his respect for 
Alexander, the founder of the city ; his admiration of its beauty, 
and his friendship for Areus, their fellow-citizen. Two only 
of particular note were put to death upon this occasion — An- 
tony's eldest son, Antyllus; and Csesario, the son of Julius 
Caesar ; both betrayed into his hands by their respective tutors, 
who themselves suffered for their perfidy, shortly afterwards. 
He treated the rest of Cleopatra's chiWren with great gentle- 
ness ; leaving them to the care of those entrusted with their edu- 
cation; who had orders to provide them with every thing suitable 
to their birth. As for the queen, when she had recovered 
from her late indisposition, he went in person, to visit her. She 
received him, reclining, in a careless manner, on a couch ; and, 
when he had entered the apartment, she rose up, to prostrate 
herself before him. She was dressed in nothing but a loose 
robe : her misfortunes had given an air of severity to her fea- 
tures ; her hair was dishevelled, her voice trembling, her com*, 
plexion pale, and her eyes red with weeping : — yet still her 
natural beauty seemed to beam through the distress that sur- 
rounded her; and the graces of her motion, and the alluring 
softness of her looks, still bore testimony to her former charms. 
Augustus raised her, with his usual complaisance ; and desiring 
her to sit, placed himself beside her. Cleopatra had been pre- 
pared for this interview, and made use of every method she 



152 HISTORY OF ROME. 

could devise, to propitiate the conqueror. She began by at-* 
tempting. to justify her conduct: she tried apologies and allure- 
ments, to obtain his favour and soften his resentment; but, 
when both art and skill failed against manifest proof, she turn- 
ed her defence into supplications. She talked of Caesar's hi** 
manity to those in distress; she read some of his letters to her, 
full of tenderness, and enlarged upon the long intimacy which 
had subsisted between them. *' But, of what service," she 
cried, *' are now all his benefits to me! — Why, could I not die 
with him ! — Yet he still lives ; methinks I see him still before 
me! — he revives in you." Augustus was no stranger to this 
method of address ; but he remained firm against every attack; 
answering always with a cold indifference, which obliged her 
to give her attempts some other turn. She now addressed his- 
avarice ; presenting him with an inventory of her treasures and 
jewels. This gave occasion to a very singular scene, which 
shows that the little decorums of breeding were then by no 
means so carefully attended to, as at present. One of her 
stewards having alleged that the inventory was incomplete, and 
that she had secreted part of her effects, she fell into a violent 
passion, started up, and seizing him by the hair, gave him 
several blows in the face. Augustus smiled at her indigna- 
tion; and, leading her back to the couch, desired her to be 
pacified. To this, she replied, t!;fca|rshe could not bear to be 
insulted in the presence of one whom she so highly esteemed. 
" And supposing," cried she, " that I have secreted a few 
trifles; am I to blame^ when they are reserved not for myself, 
but for Xivia and Octavia, whom I hope to make my inter- 
cessors with you?" This excuse, which intimated a desire of 
living, w^as not disagreeable to Augustus; who politely assured 
her, that she was at liberty to keep whatever she had reserved, 
and that in every thing she should be indulged to the height of 
her expectations. He then took leave, and departed ; imagining 
he had reconciled her to life, and to the indignity of being 
j^own in the intended triumph which he was preparing for his 
return to Rome : but in this he was deceived. Cleopatra, all this 
time, had kept up a correspondence with Dolabella^ a young 
Roman of high birth, iii the camp of Augustus: who, from 
compassion, or perhaps trom stronger motives, was interested 
in her misfortunes. By him, she was secretly informed, that 
Augustus determined to send her off, in three days, together 
with her children, to Rome, to grace his triumphal entry. She 
now, therefore, made up her mind to die: she threw herself 
upon Antony's coffin, bewailed ho/captivity, and renewed her 



HISTORY OF ROME. 153 

protestations not to survive him. Having bathed, and ordered 
a sumptuous banquet, she attired herself in the most splendid 
manner. She then feasted as usual, and soon afterwards re- 
quested all but her attendants, Charmione and Iras, to leave 
the room. Then, having previously ordered an asp to be se- 
cretly conveyed to her, in a basket of fruit, she sent a letter to 
Augustus, informing him of her fatal purpose, and desiring to 
be buried in the same tomb with Antony. 4"gustus, upon re- 
ceiving the letter, instantly despatched messengers to prevent 
her design ; but they arrived too late. On entering the cham- 
ber, they beheld Cleopatra lying dead upon a gilded couch, ar- 
rayed in her royal robes. Iras, one of h<^r faithful attendants, 
was stretched lifeless at the feet of her mistress; and Char- 
mione herself, almost expiring, was settling the diadem upon 
Cleopatra's head. "Alas!" cried one of the messengers, 
"was this well done, Charmione?" "Yes," replied she, "it 
was well done ; suc^ . a death becomes a glorious queen, de- 
scended from a race of noble ancestors." On pronouncing 
these words, she fell down and died near her beloved mistress. 



TER XXII. 




From the beginning of tWtmgn of Augustus, to the death of 
Domitianythe last of the tioelve Ccesars. 

By the death of Antony, Augustus became master of the 
empire. He soon afterwards returned to Rome, in triumph ; 
where, by sumptuous feasts and magnificent shows, he began 
to obliterate the impressions of his former cruelty, and, thence- 
forward, resolved to secure by his clemency, a throne, the 
foundation of which was laid in ^^^d. He was now at the 
head of the most extensive empire^WKt-mgiikind had ever con- 
curred in obeying. The former spirit of the Romans, and those 
characteristic marks which distinguishe*d them from ot|^rs, 
were totally lost. However, it is remarkable, that during tlMSe 
long contentions'^'amongst themselves, ^nd those Mbrrid devas- 
tations by civil war, the state was daily growing more power- 
ful, and completed the destruction of all the kings who pre- 
sumed to oppose it. 

His first care was to assure himself of the friends of Antony: 
to which end, he publicly reported that he had burned all An- 
tony's letters and papers, without reading them; convinced, 



^ 



154 HISTORY OF ROME. 

- ^. 

tJ%.whilst any thought themselves suspected, they would be 
fearful of even offering him their friendship. 

Having gained the kingdom by his army, he determined to 
govern it by the senate. This body, though greatly fallen 
from their ancient splendour, he knew to be the most orderly, 
and most capable of exercising wisdom and justice. To them, 
therefore, he gave the chief power in the administration of his 
government, whilst he still kept the people and the army sted^- 
fast to him, by his largesses and acts of favour. By these 
means, all the odium of justice fell upon the senate, and all the 
popularity of pardon was solely his own. Thus restoring to 
the senate their former magnificence, and discountenancing all 
corruption, he pretended to reserve to himself a very moderate 
share of authority, which none could refuse him; namely, an 
absolute power to compel all ranks of the state to do their duty. 
This, in fact, was retaining unlimited dominion in his own 
hands ; but the misguided people began tofjook upon his mod- 
eration with astonishment: they considered themselves as. re- 
stored to their accustomed freedom, except in the capacity of 
promoting sedition ; and the senate supposed their power re- 
established in all things, but the means of .committing injustice. 
It was even said, that the Romans, by such a government, lost 
nothing of the happiness which libertigttuld produce, and were 
exempt from all the misfortunes^^^^Bma occasion. This ob- 



is^^fl^Bma < 

u^Wnder 



servation might have some trutHWmder such a monarch as 
Augustus now seemed to be; but they were taught to change 
their sentiments under his successors, when they found them- 
selves afflicted with all the punishment that tyranny cTTuld in- 
flict, or sedition make necessary. 

After having estabhshed this admirable order, Augustus 
found himself agitated by different inclinations ; and consider- 
ed a long time whether he should retain the Imperial authority, 
or restore the people to their ancient liberty. But he adopted 
the advice of Mecaenas, who desired him to continue in power; 
and was afterwards swayed by him, not only in this instance, 
bu^ji every othef cession. By the influence of that minister, 
hd^ecame gentle, affable, and humane. By his advice, it was, 
that he encouraged men of learning, and gave them much of 
his time and friendship. They, in return, amused his most 
anxious hours, and circulated his praise throughout the empire. 

Thus, having given peace and happiness, and being con- 
vinced of the attachment of all orders of the state to his person, 
he resoWed on impressmg the people with a high idea of hia 
naagnaniniity. This was nothing less than making a show of 



HISTORY OF ROME. 155 

resigning his authority ; wherefore, having previously instructed 
his creatures in the senate, how to act, he addressed them ia 
a studied speech, importing the difficulty of governing so ex 
tensive an empire ; a task, he said, to which none but the im 
mortal gods were equal. He modestly urged his own inability, 
though impelled by every motive to undertake it; and thei>, 
with a degree of seeming generosity, freely gave up all that 
power, which, as he observed, his arms had gained, and th^ 
senate had confirmed. This power, he repeatedly offered to 
restore, giving them to understand, that the true spirit of the 
Romans was not lost in him. This speech operated variously 
upon the senate, as they were more or less in the secret; 
many believed the sincerity of his professions, and therefore re- 
garded his conduct as an act of heroism, unparalleled by any 
thing that had hitherto appeared in Rome ; others, equally ig- 
norant of his motives, distrusted his designs. Some there were, 
who, having suffered greatly during the late popular commo- 
tions, were fearful of their being renewed: but the majority, 
who were entirely devoted to his interest, and instructed by 
his ministers, frequently attempted to interrupt him while 
speaking, and received his proposal with pretended indignation. 
These unanimously besought him not to resign the administra- 
tion; but, upon his continuing to decline their request, they in 
a manner compelled him to comply. However, that his person 
might be in greater security, they immediately decreed the pay 
of his guard to be doubled. On the other hand, that he might 
seem to make some concessions on his side, he permitted the 
senate to govern the weak internal divisions of the empire, 
whilst the most powerftd provinces, and those which required 
the greatest armies for their defence, were taken entirely under 
his own command. Over these, he assumed the government 
only for ten years ; leaving the people still in hopes of regain- 
ing their ancient freedom; but^t the same time, he concerted 
•his measures so well, that his government would be renewed 
every ten years, until his death. 

This show of resignation, only served to confirm him in the 
empire, and in the hearts of the people. New honours were 
Ke^ed upon him. He was then first called Augustus, (from 
hi^mtuSy a Latin word, signifying imperial^ majestic, (a name 
I have hitherto used, as that by which he is best known in his- 
tory. A laurel was ordered to be planted at his gates. His 
house was called the palace, to distinguish it from that of an 
ordinary citizen. He was confirmed in the title of father of 
his country, and his person declared sacred and inviolable. In 



i 



15(J HISTORY OF ROME. 

Bhort, flattery seemed on the rack to find out new modes of 
pleasing him ; but though he despised the arts of the senate, he 
permitted their homage ; well knowing, that, amongst mankind, 
titles produce a respect which enforces authority. 

Upon entering into his tenth consulship, the senate by oath 
approved of all his acts, smd set him wholly above the power 
of the laws. They some time afterwards offered to swear, not 
only to all the laws which he had made, but such as he should 
make for the future. It was then customary with fathers, on 
their death bed, to command their children to carry oblations 
to the capitol, with an inscription to this- effect : that at the day 
of their death they left Augustus in health. It was determined 
that no man should be put to death on any day upon which the 
emperor entered the city. Upon a dearth of provisions, the 
people, in a body, entreated him to accent of the dictatorship : 
but, though he undertook to be procurator of the provisions, he 
would by no means accept of the title of dictator, which had 
been abolished by a law, made when Antony was consul. 

This accumulation of titles and employments, did not in the 
least diminish his assiduity in filling the duties of each. 
Several very wholesome edicts were passed by his command, 
tending to suppress corruption in the senate, and licentiousness 
in the people. He ordered that none should exhibit a show of 
gladiators, without leave from the senate, and then no oftener 
than twice a year ; nor with more thin one-hundred-and-twenty 
at a time. This law was extremely necessary, at so licentious 
a period of the empire, when whole armies of those unfortunate 
men were brought at once upon the stage, and compelled to 
fight often until half of them were slain. It had been usual 
also with the knights, and some women of the first distinction^ 
to exhibit themselves as dancers upon the theatre : he ordered 
that not only they, but also their children and grand-children, 
should be restrained from such exercises for the future. He 
fined many who had refused to marry at a certain age ; and re- 
warded those who had many children; but he ordered that fe- 
males should not be married until twelve years of age. He enact- 
ed that the senators should always be held in great reverence ; 
adding to their authority what he had taken from their power. 
He made a law that no man should have the freedom of the 
city, without a previous examination into his merit and chai>, 
acter. He appointed new rules and limits respecting the 
manumission of slaves, and was himself very strict in their ob- 
«ervance. With regard to players, of whom he was very fond, 
be severely examined mto their morals ; not allowing the lea^l 



HISTORY OF ROME. 157 

degree of indecency in their conduct, either in society or on 
•the stage. Though he encouraged the athletic exercises, yet 
he would not permit women to be present; holding it unbe^ 
coming the modesty of the s*ex, to be spectators of those sports 
which were performed by men entirely divested of their dress. 
In order to prevent bribery in suing for offices, he took coi>- 
siderable sums of money from the candidates, by way of pledge ; 
which, if any indirect practices were proved against them, they 
were, obliged to forfeit. Slaves had ife en \ hitherto disaibwed 
to confess any thing against their own masteVs; but he abWish- 
ed the practice, and first sold the slave to another; which 
transfer altering' the property, his examination became freeu 
:' These, and many other laws, all tending to reform vice or de- 
ter from crimes, gave the manners of the people another com- 
plexion; so that the rough character of the Roman was now 
Boftened into that of the refined citizen. 

Indeed, his own (example a good deal tended to humanize 
his fellow-citizens. Being placed above all equality, he had 
nothing to fear from condescension ; wherefore he was familiar 
with all, and suffered himself to be reprimanded with the most 
Datient humility. Though, by the single authority of his sta- 
^Slion, he was capable of condemning or acquitting at discretion, 
yet he gave the laws their proper course, and even sometimes 
pleaded for those he desired to protect. Thus, Primus, the 
governor of Macedonia, being brought to trial, for having made 
war on the Odrisii, a neighbouring people, as he said by com- 
mand of Augustus, the latter denied the charge; upon which, 
the advocate of Primus, with an insolent air, desired to know 
what brotight Augustus into court, or who had sent for him. 
To this, the empeior submissively replied: ^^ The common- 
wealth;" an answer which greatly pleased the people. On 
another occasion, one of his veteran soldiers entreated his pro- 
tection in a certain cause; but Augustus, taking little notice 
of his request, desired him to apply to an advocate. ** Ah," 
replied the soldier, '^ it was not by proxy that I served you at 
the battle of Actium." This reply pleased Augustus so much, 
that he pleaded his cause in person, and gained it for him. 
He was extremely affable, atid returned the salutation of the 
poorest individual. One day, a person presented him a peti- 
tion, but with so much awe, that Augustus was displeased with 
his meanness. " What, friend," cried he, " you seem as if 
you were offering something to an elephant, and not to a mans, 
be bolder." Another day, as he was sitting on the tribunal in 
judgment, Mecaenas, perceiving, by his temper, that he was u^* 



158 HISTORY OF ROME. 

dined to be severe, attempted to speak to him : but not being 
able to get up to the tribunal, for the crowd, he threw a papei* 
mto his lap, on which was written, " arise executioner." Au- 
gustus read it without any displeasure ; and, immediately rising, 
pardoned those whom he was before disposed to condemn* 
But what most of all showed a total change in his disposition, 
was his treatment of Cornelius Cinna, Pompey's grandson. 
This nobleman had entered into a very dangerous conspiracy 
against him; but the plot was discovered, before it was ripe for 
execution. Augustus for some time debated with himself how 
to act; but at last his clemency prevailed: he therefore sent 
for those who were guilty^ and, after reprimanding them, dis- 
missed them all. But he resolved to mortify Cinna, by the 
greatness of his generosity: addressin|^ him in particular, ** I 
have twice," said he, " given you your life; first, as an enemy 
— now, as-a conspirator: I now give you the consulship; let 
us therefore be friends for the future ; and let us only contend ' 
in showing whether my confidence or your fidelity shall be vic- 
torious." This rp«(^namniity, which the emperor very happily 
timed, had so good an effect, that from that instant, all con- 
spiracies^ against him ceased. 

.-Jk^he'jpractilie^crf such virtues as these, he passed a lorf||^ 
reign of above forty years, in which the happiness of the people 
seeiiied to conspire with his own; however, there were wars 
in the distant provinces of the empire, during almost his whole 
reigu: but they arose rather from the queUing of insurrection, than 
the extending of dominion ; for he had made it a rule to carry 
on no operations, in which ambition, find not the safety of the 
state, was concerned. He seemed the firs^i^floman who aimed 
at gaining a character by the arts of peace alone ; and who, 
without any military talents, secured the affections of his sol- 
diers. Nevertheless, the Roman arms, under his lieutenants, 
were c/owned with success. The Canta;brians, in Spain, who 
had refolted, were more than once (JueUed, by Tiberius, his 
step-son. Agrippa, his son-in-law, and -3Elius Lamia, who foU 
lowed t«iem into their almost inaccessible mountains, there block- 
ed theru up, and compelled them, by famine, to surrender at 
discretion. The Germans also gave some uneasiness by their 
repeated incursions into the territories of Gaul; but were re- 
pressed hy Lollius. The Rhetians were conquered by Drusus, 
the brotlier of Tiberius. The Bessi and Sialatse, barbarous 
nations, making an irruption into Thrace, were overthrown by 
Piso, governjor of Pamphilia, who gained triumphal honours. 
The Dacians were repressed, with more than one defeat; the 



HISTORY OF ROME. 159 

Arminians also were brought into due subjection, by Caius, his 
grandson. The GetuUans, in Africa, took up arms ; but were 
subdued by the consul, Caius Cossus, who thence received the 
surname of GetuUcus. A dangerous war was carried on also 
against the Dalmatians and Pantonians ; who, having acquired 
great strength by a long continued peace, accumulated an 
army of two-hundred-thousand foot and nine-thousand horse, 
threatening Rome herself with destruction. Levies were 
therefore made in Italy, with the utmost expedition ; the veteran 
troops were recalled from all parts, and Augustus went to Ar^ 
minia, for the greater convenience of giving his directions. 
Indee^, though personal valour was by no means his shining 
ornament, yet no man could give wiser orders, upon every 
emergency, or go with greater despatch into all parts of his 
dominions. This war continued nearly three years; being 
principally managed by Tiberius and Germanicus, the latter of 
whom gained reputation during the hostilities with these fierce 
and barbarous multitudes. Upon their reduction, Batto, their 
leader, being summoned before the ©tribunal of Tiberius, and 
questioned how he could offer to revolt against the power of 
Rome, the bold barbarian replied, that the Romansf and not he, 
were the aggressors ; since they had sent, instead of dogs and 
shepherds to secure their flocks, only wolves and bears, to de- 
vour them. 

jT p The war which was the most fatal to the Roman 
^Ig ' interest, during this reign, was that which was con- 
ducted by Quintihus Yarus. This general, invading 
the territories of the Germans, was induced to follow the 
enemy amongst their forests and marshes, with his army in 
separate bodies; but being attacked by night, he and his whole 
army were entirely cut off. These were the very best legions 
of the whole empire, for valour, discipline, and experience. 
The affliction caused by this defeat, seemed to make a lasting 
impression on the mind of Augustus. He was often -heard k) 
cry out, in a tone of anguish: '^ Quintilius Yarus, restore me 
niy legions ;" and some historians pretend to say^ that he never 
afterwards recovered the former serenity of his temper. 

But he had some uneasiness, of a domestic nature, which 
contributed to distress him. With the consent of her husband, 
he had married Livia, the wife of Tiberiuff^Nero, an imperious 
woman ; who, conscious of his affection, controlled bun ever 
afterwards at her pleasure. She had two sons, by her former 
husband; Tiberius, the elder, whom she greatly loved, and 
Prusus, who was boFP three months after she had been ma|:- 



\ 



160 HISTORY OF ROME. 

ried to Augustus, and who was thought to be his own son. 
Tiberius, whom he afterwards adopted, and who succeeded 
him in the empire, was a good general, but of a suspicious and 
o'bstinate temper; so that though he was serviceable to Au- 
gustus in his foreign wars, yet he gave him httle quiet at home. 
He was at last obliged to go into exile for five years, to the 
island of Rhodes, where he spent his time chiefly in a retired 
manner, conversing with the Greeks, and addicting himself to 
literature ; of which, howe^ er, he made afterwards a bad use. 
Drusus, died in his return from an expedition against the Ger- 
mans; leaving Augustus inconsolable for his loss. But his 
greatest affliction proceeded from the conduct of Julia, his 
daughter by Scribonia, his former wife. This woman, whom 
he maiTi^d to his general, Agrippa, and after his death, to Ti- 
berius, set no bountis to her lewdness. Augustus for a long 
time would not believe the accounts he daily heard, of her con- 
duct; but at last could not avoid observing them. ' He found 
^e had arrived at So great an excess of wantonness and prodi- 
gality, that she . had-^'her moctufnal appointments in the most 
public parts of the city; the very court, where her father pre- 
sided, not Ifting exempt from her debaucheries. He at first 
had thoughts of putting her to death ; but, after some consider- 
ation, he banished her to Pandataria; forbidding her the use 
of wine, and all such delicacies as could inflame her vicious 
inclinations : he ordered also that no person should go near 
her, withoul; his ovv^n permission; and sent her mother Scribo- 
nia with her, as a companion. Afterwards, when any one at- 
tempted to intercede for Julia, his answer was, that fire and 
water should sooner unite, than he with her. When some 
persons were one dayTnore than usually urgent with him in her 
favour, he was driven mto so violent a passion, as to wish that 
each might have such a daughter. How^ever, she had two sons 
by Agrippa, named Caius and Lucius, of whom great expecta- 
tions were formed: but they died when scarcely arrived at 
man's estate ; Lucius, about five years after his father, at 
Marseilles; and Caius, in two years from the death of his 
brother. Augustus having now in a great measure survived all 
his early associates and friends, at length, in the seventy-fourth 
year of his age, began to think of retiring from the fatigues of 
state, and partially of continuing Tiberius, his son-in-law, his 
successor in his usual employments. He desired the senate 
to salute him no longer at the palace, according to custom; 
and not to be displeased, if, for the future, he could not con- 
verse with them as formerly. From that time, Tiberius was 



HISTORY OF ROME- 161 

joined with him in the government of the provinces, and in- 
vested with almost the same authority. However, Augustus 
could not entirely forsake the administration of the state, which 
habit had associated with his satisfactions ; he still continued 
a watchful guardian of its interests, and showed himself, to the 
last, a lover of his people. Finding it now, therefore, very in- 
convenient to go to the senate, by reason of his age, he desire^ 
to have twenty privy counsellors assigned him, for a year; ana 
it was decreed that whatever was determined upon by them, 
together with the consuls, should have entirely the force of a 
law. He seemed in some measure apprehensive of his ap- 
proaching end; for he made his will, and delivered it to the. 
vestal virgins. He then solemnized the census, or numbering 
of the people, whom he found to amount to four-millions one- 
hundred- and-thirty-seven- thousand: which shows Rome to 
have been equal to four of the greatest cities of modern times.* 
Whilst these ceremonies were performing by a mighty con- 
course of people, it is said that an eagle flew several times 
around the emperor; and, directing his flight to a neighbouring 
temple, perched over the name of Agrippa; which was, by the 
augurs, conceived to portend the emperor's death. Shortly 
afterwards, having accompanied Tiberius, in his march into 
Illyria, as far as Beneventum, he was there taken ill of a 
diarrhoea. Returning, therefore, he came to Nola, near Capua, 
and there finding himself dangerously ill, he sent for Tiberius, 
with the rest of his most intimate friends and acquaintances. 
A few hours before his death, he ordered that a looking-glass 
should be brought, and his hair adjusted with more than usual 
care. He then addressed his friends, whom he beheld sur- 
rounding his bed, and desired to know whether he had properly 
played his part in life ; to which, being answered in the affirm- 
ative, he cried out, with his last breath: "Then, give me your 
applause;" and thus, in the seventy-sixth year of his age, after 
reigning forty-one, he expired, in the arms of Livia ; bidding 
her remember their marriage, and taking a farewell. 

The death of Augustus, when known, caused inexpressible 
grief, throughout the whole Roman empire ; it was even sup- 
posed that his wife Livia had assisted in hastening it, wishing 
to procure the succession more speedily for her son. How- 
ever, she took care to keep it for some time concealed, having 

* If Dr. Goldsmith, by the above comparison, had London in his view, which 
is highly probable, he might with greater propriety have said — which shows 
Rome to have been four times as large as London., one of the greatest cities of 
modem times. — Editor, 

O 2 



162 HISTORY OF ROME. 

guarded all the approaches to the palace; somethnes giving 
out that he had recovered, and then pretending a relapse. At 
length, having settled the succession as she wished, she pub- 
lished the emperor's death, and at the same time the adoption 
of Tiberius to the empire. 

The funeral of Augustus v^as performed with great magnifi- 
cence. The senators being in their places, Tiberius, on whom 
the care was devolved, began a consolatory oration to them, 
but suddenly stopped in the beginning of his speech, as if unable 
to restrain the violence of his sorrow; and, instead of con- 
tinuing, gave his notes to Drusus, his son, who read them to* 
the senate. After this, one of the late emperor's freedmen 
publiciy read his will in the senate-house ; by which, he made 
Tiberius and Livia his heirs, and adopted the latter into the 
Julian family : being honoured by the name of Augusta. Be- 
sides his will, four other writings were produced. One, in 
which he had left instructions concerning his funeral : another, 
containing an enumeration of his several exploits: a third, 
comprising an account of the provinces, forces, and revenues, 
of the empire ; and a fourth, giving a schedule of directions to 
Tiberius for governing the empire. Amongst these, it was 
found to have been his opinion, that no man, however great his 
reputation, should be intrusted with too much authority, lest it 
should induce him to turn tyrant. Another maxim was, that 
none should desire to enlarge the empire, which was already 
preserved with difficulty. Thus, he seemed studious of serv- 
ing his country to the very last, and the sorrow of the people 
seemed equal to his assiduity. It was decreed that all the 
women should mourn for h^m a whole year. Temples were 
erected to him; divine honours were allowed him; and one 
Numerius Atticus, a senator, willing to convert the adulation 
of the times to his own benefit, received a large sum of money 
for swearing that he saw him ascending to heaven : so that no 
doubt remained among the people, concerning his divinity. 

Such, were the honours paid to Augustus, whose power began 
in the slaughter, and terminated in the happiness, of his sub- 
jects; so that it was said of him: '' It had been good for man- 
kind if he had never been born, or if he had never died." Il 
is very probable that the cruelties exercised in his triumvirate, 
were suggested by his colleagues ; or, perhaps, he thought, in 
the case of Caesar's death, that revenge was virtue. There is 
no doubt, however, that these severities were in some measure 
necessary, to restore public tranquillity ; and Aug'istus might 
have supposed that until the Roman spirit was entirely eradi- 



HISTORY OF ROME. 163 

(Jated, no monarchy could be secure. He gave the govern*- 
ment an air suited to the disposition of the times ; he indulged 
his subjects in the pride of seeing the appearance of a republic, 
whilst he made them really happy in the effects of a most ab- 
solute monarchy, guided by the most consummate prudence. 
In this last virtue, he seems to have excelled almost every 
other monarch ; and, indeed, could we separate Octavius from 
Augustus, he would be one of the most estimable princes in 
history. 

yy p Tiberius was fifly-six years old when he took upon 

w' ^ * him the government of the Roman efnpire. He had 
. -p. * K lived a considerable time in a profound state of dis- 
* simulation, under Augustus ; and was not yet hardy 
enough to show himself in his real character. In the beginning 
of his reign, nothing appeared but prudence, generosity, and 
clemency. But the success of Germanicus, his nephew, over 
the Germans, first brought his natural disposition to light, and 
discovered the malignity of his mind without disguise. He soon 
began to -consult on the most specious means of humbling 
the popularity of Germanicus, and removing the object af his 
suspicions. For this purpose, he despatched to his nephew, 
Piso, who was a person of furious and headstrong temper, and 
in every respect fit to execute those fatal purposes for which 
he was employed. His instructions were, to oppose Germanic 
cus upon every occasion ; to excite all the hatred against him 
which he could without suspicion ; and even to procure his 
death, if an opportunity should offer. This agent succeeded: 
Germanicus died soon afterwards ; as it was universally be- 
lieved, by poison. 

Having now no object of jealousy to keep him in awe, he 
began to throw off the mask, and appear more in his natural 
character, than before. In the beginning of his cruelties he 
took into his confidence, Sejanus, a Roman knight; who found 
out the method of ingratiating himself with his patron, by the 
most refined degree of dissimulation; being an overmatch for 
Aiis master, in his own arts. It is not well known whether he 
was the adviser of all the cruelties that ensued ; but certain it 
4s, that from the beginning of his ministry, Tiberius seemed to 
become more fatally suspicious. 

Sejanus began by using all his address to persuade Tiberius 
to retire to some agreeable retreat, remote from Rome. By 
this, he expected many advantages ; since there could be no 
access to the emperor, except through him. The emperor, 
either prevailed upon by his persuasions, or pursuing the natural 



164 HISTORY OF ROME. 

turn of his temper, which led to indolence and debauchery, ft 
the twelfth year of his reign left Rome, and went into Cam^ 
pania; under pretence of dedicating temples to Jupiter and 
Augustus. Still growing weary of places where mankind might 
follow him with their complaints and distresses, he withdrew 
into that most deHghtful island, Caprea, three miles from the 
continent, and opposite to Naples ; and buried in this retreat, 
he gave himself up to his abandoned pleasures, quite regard- 
less of the miseries of his subjects. 

In fact, it would have been happy for mankind, had he given 
up his suspicions when he declined the fatigues of reigning; 
and resigned the will to do harm, when he divested himself of 
the power of doing good. But, from the time of his retreat he 
became more cruel, and Sejanus always endeavoured to in- 
ci'ease his mahgnity. Spies and informers were placed in all 
parts of the city, who converted the most harmless actions into 
subjects of offence. 

In consequence, Nero and Drusus, the children of Germani- 
cus, were declared enemies to the state, and afterwards starved 
to death in prison; whilst Agrippina, their mother, was sent 
into banishment. Sabinus, Assinius Gallus, and Syriacus, 
were, upon slight pretences, condemned and executed. In 
this manner, Sejanus proceeded, removing all who stood be- 
tween him and the empire, and every day increasing in confi 
dence with Tiberius, and in power with the senate. The nuni 
ber of his statues exceeded those of the emperor: people swore 
by his fortune, in the same manner as they would have done 
even had he been upon the throne ; and he was more dreaded 
than the tyrant who actually possessed the empire. But the 
rapidity of his rise seemed only preparatory to the greatness oi 
his downfal. All we know of his first disgrace with the em- 
peror, is, that Sarins Secundus was the man who had the bold- 
ness to accuse him of treason; and Antonia, the mother of 
Germanicus, seconded the accusation. The senate, who had 
long been jealous of his power, and dreaded his cruelty, imme- 
diately took the opportunity of going beyond the orders of Ti 
berius; and, instead of sentencing him to imprisonment, they 
directed his execution. As he was conducting to his fate, the 
people loaded him with insuh and execration. He was pur- 
sued with sarcastic reproaches; his statues were instantly 
thrown down, and he himself shortly afterwards strangled by 
the executioner. 

His death only inflamed the emperor^s rage for increasing 
the executions. Plancina, the wife of Piso, Sextus Yestiliu§, 



HISTORY OF ROME. 165 

Vescularius Atticus, and Julius Marinus, suffered death, by his 
command, for being attached to Sejanus. He began to grow 
weary of particular executions, and gave orders that all the 
accused should be put to death together, without further ex- 
amination. The whole city was filled with slaughter and 
mourning. When one Carnulius had killed himself, to avoid 
the torture: "Ah," cried Tiberius, "how has that man been 
able to escape me !" When a prisoner earnestly entreated that 
he would not defer his death : " No," cried the tyrant, " I am 
not sufficiently your friend, to shorten your torments." 

In this manner, he lived, odious to all the world, and trouble- 
some to himself; an enemy to the lives of others, and a tor- 
mentor of his own. At length, in the twenty-second year of 
his reign, he began to feel the approaches of his dissolution, 
and all his appetites totally to forsake him. He now, therefore, 
found it was time to think of a successor, and shortly after- 
wards fixed upon Caligula: (son of Germanicus, by Agrippina, 
and grandson of Tiberius:) anxious, perhaps, by the enormity 
of Cal'gula's conduct, to cover the memory of his own. 

Still, however, he 'seemed willing to avoid his end; and 
strove, by change of place, to divert the inquietude of his own 
reflections. He lefl his favourite island, and went upon the 
continent ; and at last stopped on the promontory of Misenum, 
in a house which formerly belonged to Lucullus. Here, hap- 
pening to fall into fits, extremely violent, all believed they were 
fatal. Caligula, supposing him actually dead, caused himself 
to be acknowledged by the prcetorian soldiers, and went forth 
from the emperor's apartment, amidst the applauses of the muU 
titude ; — but suddenly he was informed that the emperor had 
recovered, that he had begun to speak, and desired to eat. This 
unexpected account filled the whole court with terror and 
amazement — every one who before had been earnest in testi- 
fying his joy, now re-assumed his pretended sorrow, and 
left the new emperorthrough a feigned soliicitude for the fat© 
of the old. Caligula seemed thunderstruck: he preserved a 
gloomy silence, expecting nothing but death, instead of the 
empire at which he aspired. Macro, however, who was harden- 

yr p ed in crimes, ordered that the dying emperor should 

7qo * ^^ despatched, by smothering him with pillows, or, a^ 
A 11 ^Q ^^^^^^ ^i^^ have it, by poison. In this manner, Ti- 
' berius died, in the seventy-eighth year of his age, 
after having reigned twenty-two. 

It was in the eighteenth year of this monarch's reign, that 
Christ was crucified. Shortly after his death, Pilate wrote to 



166 HISTORY OF ROME. 

Tiberius an account of his passion, resurrection, and miracles ; 
upon which, the emperor made a report of the whole to the 
senate, desiring that Christ might be accounted a god by the 
Romans. But the senate, displeased that the proposal had not 
come first from themselves, refused to allow his apotheosis; 
alleging an ancient law, which gave them the superintendence 
in all matters of religion. They even went so far, as .by an 
edict, to command that all christians should leave the city : 
but Tiberias, by another act, threatened death to any who 
should accuse them ; by which means, they continued unmo- 
lested, during the rest of his life. 

All the enormities of Cahgula were concealed in the begin- 
ning of his reign. But it would have been happy for himself 
and for the empire, had such a commencement been as strenu- 
ously maintained. In less than eight months, all appearance 
of moderation and clemency vanished ; whilst furious passions, 
unexampled avarice, and capricious cruelty, began to take 
their turn in his mind. Pride, impiety, lust, avarice, and all in 
the extreme, were every moment displayed. V 

His pride first began by assuming to himself the appellation 
of Ruler, which was granted only to kings. He would ^o 
have taken the crown and diadem, had he not been advise(WB^ 
he was already superior to all the monarchs in the worla 
Not long afterwards, he assumed divine honours, and gave 
himself the name of such divinities as he thought agreeable to 
his nature. For this purpose, he caused the heads of the 
statues of Jupiter, and some other gods, to be struck ofi*, and 
the image of his own head to be put in the place of each. He 
frequently seated himself between Castor and Pollux, and or- 
dered that all who came to their temple, to worship, should pay 
their 'Stdor^tiorisuDnly to him. However, such was the extrava- 
gant inconstancy of this unaccountable ideot, that he changed 
his divinity as often as he changed his clothes — being at one 
time a male deity,'* at "Another -a female,; sometimes, Jupiter or 
Mars, and not unfrequently Yenus or Diana. He even built 
^d dedicated a temple to his own divinity ; in which, his statue 
of gold was every day dressed in similar robes to those which 
he himself wore, .and was worshipped by crowds of adorers. 
His priests were numerous: the sacrifices made to him were 
of the most exquisite delicacies that could be procured, and 
the dignity of the priesthood was sought by the most opulent 
men of the city. However, he admitted his wife and his 
horse to that honour; and to give a finishing stroke to his ab- 
surdities, he became a priest to himself. His method of as 



HISTORY OF ROME. 167 

suming the manners of a deity, was not less ridiculous; he 
often went out during the full moon, and courted it in the style 
of a lover. He employed many inventions to imitate thunder, 
and would frequently defy Jupiter ; <;^in^-* ^i> ^ ^ speech of 
Homer, " Do you conquer me, or^^j will Conquer you." He 
frequently pretended to converse in whispers with the ^tatue of 
Jupiter, and usually seemed angry at its r^^s;,;thi:eatening 
to send it packing into Greece. Some^^Wi however, he 
would assume a better temper, and appeSc^t^fltp^^ted that 
both should dwell together in amity. 



t #^ 



Of all his vices, his prodigality was the mpst rem^rkable^ 
and that which in some measure gave rise to the rest. The 
luxuries of former emperors were sifnplicity itself, when com- 
pared to those which he practised. He contrived new ways 
of bathing, when the richest oils and most precious perfumes 
were exhausted, with the utmost profusion. He invented 
dishes, made at an immense expense ; and had even jewels, as 
we are told, dissolved amongst his sauces. 'Instead of meat, 
he" sometimes had^ervices of pure gold presented before his 
guests ; observing tb^t a man should be an economist or an 
emperor. 

Tlie expensive manner in which he maintained his horse, 
will give some idea of his domestic economy. He built for 
l^^^it^Je of marble, with a manger c^ ivory. Whenever 
this animal, which he called Incitaius, was to run, he placed 
centinels near the stable, the night preceding, to prevent his 
slumbers being broken. He appointed him a house, furniture, 
and kitchen, to treat all his visitors with proper respect. The 
emperor sometimes invited Incitatus to his own table, and pre- 
sented him gilt oats, and wine in a gold cup. He often swore 
by the safety of his horse; and it is said he would have ap- 
pointed him to the consulship, had not his death prevented. 

His impiety was but subordinate to his cruelties. He slew 
many of the senate, and afterwards cited them to appear as if 
they had killed themselves. He cast great numbers of old, 
infirm, and decrepid persons, to wild beasts, to free the state 
from such unserviceable citizens. He usually fed his wild^ 
beasts with the bodies of those wretches whom he had con- 
demned ; and every tenth day sent off many of them t© be thus 
devoured, which he jocosely called clearing his accounts. One 
of these who was thus exposed, crying out that he was inno- 
cent, he ordered his tongue to be cut out. He took delight in 
killing men by slow tortures, that, as he expressed it, they might 
feel themselves dying; being himself always present at such 



1 68 HISTORY OF ROME. 

executions, directing the duration of the pmti^hment, and miti- 
gating the tortures, merely to prolong them. In fact, he valued 
himself for* no qualitjMiiore than this unrelenting temper and 
inflexible se\j^lhjji^'?^^fc; he, maintained while presiding at an 
execution. Mt^ tmfej being incensed at the citizens of 
Rome, he wished that all the Roman people had but one neck, 

«'|:jl»;that he might despatch them at a blow. 
TcSife Such insuppdrtjhle and capricious cruelties, produced many 
conspiracies against him ; but they were for a while deferred 
on account of his intended expedition against the Germans and 
Britains, which he undertook in the third year of his reign. 
For this purpose, he caused numerous levies to be made, in all 
yy p parts of the empire, and talked with so much resolu* 
'' tion, that it was universally believed he would con- 
A "ri a\ ^^^^ ^11 before him. His march perfectly indicated 
* the inequality of his temper: sometimes it was so 
rapid that the cohorts were obliged to leave their standards be- 
hind them ; at other times, so slow, that it more resembled a 
pompous procession, than a mihtary expecSipn. TNiheQ in this 
humour, he would cause himself to be ||irried on eight . men's 
shoulders, and order all the neighbouring cities to have their 
streets well swept and watered, to defend him from the dust. 
However, all these mighty preparations ended in nothing. 
Instead of conquering Britain, he only gave refuge to one 
of its banished princes; and this-, in his letter to the ^senate, 
he described as taking possession of the whole island. In- 
stead of conquering Germany, he only led his army to the sea- 
shore in Batavia. There, disposing his engines and warlike 
machines with great solemnity, and draw;ing his men up in or- 
der of battle, he went on board his galley ; with which, coast- 
ing along, he commanded his trumpets to sound, and the sig- 
nal to be given, as if for an engagement. Upon this, his men, 
having had previous orders, immediately began to gathef the 
shells which lay upon the sea-shore, into their helmets ; term- 
ing them the spoils of the conquered ocean, worthy of the 
palace and the capitol. After this doughty exp^ition, calling 
his army together, as a general after victory, he harangued 
them, in a pompous manner, and highly extolled their achieve- 
ments ; then, distributing money amongst them, he dismissed 
them, with orders to be joyful, and congratulated them upon 
their riches. But, that such exploits should not pass without 
a memorial, he caused a lofty tower to be erected, by the sea- 
side ; and ordered the galleys in which he had put to sea, to be 
I conveyed to Rome, in a great measure by land. 



1 ^-t 

^ HlSi',:JRY OF ROME. ^ ^ 16^ 

Cassius Cherea, tribune of the prsetorianbands, was the per- 
son who at last freed the world of Jjij^jijlfcnt. Besides the 
' motives in common to him withy^thlf men, he had received r 
• rpeated insults from Caligula, \^o took all occasions of turning 
y^ni into ridicule and impeachifl| him of cowardice, merely be- 
"''cause he had an effeminate voice. Whenever Cherea came, 
according/to custom, to d^and the watch-word from the em- 
peror, ht| always gave .^m Venus — Adonis — or some othef^j 
name of similar import, implying effeminacy and softni^ss. He 
therefore secretly imparted his designs to several senators and 
knights, whom he knew to have received personal injuries frornL 
Caligula: amongst them, was Valerius Asiaticus,«whose wif^ 
the emperor had dishonoured. Annius Vincianus, also, was 
desirous of engaging in the first design that offered; together 
with Clemens, the prsefect, and Calistus, whose "ftehe^n:iade 
him subject to the tyrant's resentment. 

Whilst these were deliberating Qifl^e most certain and speedy 
method of destroying him, an unexpected incident gave new 
strength to the conspiracy. Pf»mpedius, a senator of distinc- 
tion, being accused before the emperor of haviiig spoken of 
him with disrespect, the emperor cited one Qaintilia, an actress, 
j to confirm the charge. Quintiha, however, possessed a degree 
I of fortitude not always found in the other sex: she denied the 
I V fact, with obstinacy; and, at the informer's request, being put 
to the torture, she bore the severest torments of the rack with 
unshaken constancy. But what seems most remarkable of her 
resolution, is, that she was acquainted with all the particulars 
of the conspiracy ; and, although Cherea was the person ap- 
pointed to preside at her torture, she revealed nothing : on the 
contrary, when she was led to the rack, she trod on the toe of 
one of the conspirators ; intim.ating at once her knowledge of 
the confederacy, and her own resolution not to divulge it. In this 
manner she suffered, until all 1^'r hmbs were dislocated ; and in 
tk^tdeplorable state, was presented to the emperor, who or- 
derecNn gratuity by way of compensation for her sufferings. 
Cherea could no longer contain his indignation, at being thus 
made the instrument of a tyrant's cruelty. After several de- 
liberations with the c9nspirators, it was at last agreed to attack 
him at the Palati^ games, which lasted four days ; and to 
strike the blow vdren the guards should have the least oppor- 
tunity to defend him. ^The first three days, however, passed 
without affording an opportunity. Cherea now, therefore, be- 
gan to apprehend, that deferring the time of the conspiracy 
might be a means of divulging it: he even feared that the kill- 



170 V, HISTORY OF ROME. 

#"' 
ing of the tyrant might fall to the lot of some other perscn> 

more bold than lai[g|j|df;^ wherefore, he at last determined to 
defer the execution of hfs plot no longer than the day follow- 
ing, when Caligula should pdks through a private gallery, to 
some baths, not far dfstant frJR the palace. 

Theilast day of the games was more splendid than the rest> 
and Gl^^iila seemed more sprigM^ and condesceijding than 
usual. iRe took great amusement in^eing the people scramble 
for the fruit and other rarities, thrown by his order amongst 
them; and seemed no way apprehensive of the plot formed foT 
his destruction. In the mean time, the conspiracy began . to 
^ranspireyand had he aiiy friends left, it could not have failed 
of bein|rdiscovered. A senator who was present, asking one 
of hisyfcquaintances if he had heard any thing new, the other 
replying in* the negative, '' Then you must know," says he, 
*^ that this day will be represented the death of a tyrant." The 
other immediately understp<i^ him, but desired him to be more 
cautious how he divulged- a secret of so much importance. 
The conspirators waited a great part of the day, in extreme 
anxiety ; and at one time, Caligula seemed determined to spend 
the whole d^ without any refreshment. This unexpected de- 
lay entirely exasperated Cherea; and had he not been restrain- 
ed, he would have gone and perpetrated his design in the midst 
of all the people. Just at that instant, whilst he was yet hesi- 
tating what he should do, Aspi*enas, one of the conspirators, pei 
suaded Caligula to go to the bath, and take so'ne slight refresh- 
ment, in order to enjoy the rest of the entertainment with greater 
relish. The emperor, therefore, rising up, the confederates 
used every precaution to keep off the throng; surrounding 
him, under pretence of greater assiduity. Upon his entering 
into a vaulted gallery which led from the theatre to the bath, 
they resolved to despatch him. Cherea first struck him to the 
ground with his dagger, crying out:.** Tyrant, think upon 
this," Immediately afterwards, the other conspirators rushed 
in ; and, whilst the*©mperor continued to resist,^xclaimiiig that 
he was not yet dead, they despatched him with thirty wounds. 
Such was the death of Caius Cahgula, in the twenty -ninth 
year of his age, after a short reign of three years, ten months, 
and eight days. It is unnecessary to add any thing more to 
his character, than what Seneca says of him: — that nature 
seemed to have brought him forth, to show what was possible 
to be produced from the greatest vice, supported by the greateal 
authority. 



HISTORY OF ROME. 1711 

ft n -^s soon as the death Q^IGs 

704. * ^^ produced the greatest — ^" 
A T) 42 ^^^^' '^^^ conspirato ~ 

' stroying a tyrant, *wu^^^^^^^^Blo a successor! 
all sought safety, by retiring tPpn^^^^^^^Ff^oine soldiers/ 
happening to runabout the pftlace^^ " " 

gula's uncle, lurking in a secret pla( 
self through fear. Of ^is personag 
despised for his imbeciity, they deterB 
peror ; and, accordingly;* carried him \^ 
the camp, where they proclaimed 
nothing but death; and the senate confirmed their cf 

Claudius was fifty years old when he began to reign. The 
complicated diseases of his infancy had in some measure af-^ 
fected the powers both of his body and mind. He was con- 
tinued in a state of pupilage much longer than was usual at 
that time; and seemed in every Agurt of life incapabite of con-^ 
ducting himself. ^^ 

- ^I^e commencement of his rejgn, as with all the bac|| em- 
perors, gave the most promising htifees of 'a(|iappy contia»finee. 
He began by passing an act of ob|i|Mh with respect tcTalJ for- 
mer words and actions, and annuUea^tel, the cruel edicts of 
Caligula, lie showed himself more moderate than his prede- 
cessors, with regard to titles and honours. He forbade all 
persons, under severe penalties, to sacrifice to him, as they 
had done to Caligula. He was assiduous in hearing and eX- - 
amining complaints, and frequently administered justice in per- 
son; tempering, by his mildness, the severity of the law. # 

To his solicitude for the internal advantages of the state, ho 
added a watchful guardianship over the provinces. He re- 
stored Judea to Herod Agrippa, which Caligula had taken from 
Herod Antipas, his uncle, the man who had put to death John 
the Baptist, and who was banished by order of the present en>- 
peror. Claudius reinstated in their kingdoms, those princes 
als% who had been unjustly dethroned by his predecessors, but 
deprived the Lycians and Rhodians of their liberty, for having 
promoted insurrection, and crucified some citiz^s of Rome* 

He even undertook to gratify the people by foreign conquest. 
The Britains, who had for nearly one-hundred years been lefl 
in sole possession of their own island, began to seek the medi^ ^ 
ation of Rome, to quell their intestine commotions. The 
principal man who desired to subject his native country to the 
Roman dominion, was one Bericus, who, by many argumenis, 
persuaded the emperor to make a descent upon the island; 



.;;7^^^ HISTORY OF ROME, 

magnifying the advantages^ which would attend the conquest* 
In pursuance of his advice, therefore, Plautius, the praetor, was 
ordered to pass over ^o Gaul, and make preparations for this 
great expedition. At first, in^ed, the soldiers seemed back- 
ward to embark; declaring thai they were unwilling to make 
war beyond the limits of the world — for so they judged Britain 
to be. However, they were at last persuaded to go; and the 
Britains. under the conduct of their king Cynobelinus, wer 
several times overtlirown. 

A D 46 These successes soon afterwards induced Claudius 
himself to go into Britian, on pretence that the na- 
tives were still seditious, and that they had not delivered up 
some Roman fugitives, who had taken shelter amongst them. 
This expedition seemed calculated rather for show, than ser- 
vice: the time he continued in Britain, about sixteen days, 
was more taken up in receiving homage, than extending his 
conquests. However, great rejoicings were made, upon his 
return to Rome. The senate decreed him a splendid triumph: 
triun>phal arches were erected to his honour, and annual games 
mstilSg^d, to commemorate ^is victories. In the mean time^ 
war was vigorously proseciited by Plautius, and his lieutenant 
Vespasian; who, accqj^ffl^ to Suetonius, fought thirty battles 
with the enemy, and by that means reduced a part of the island 
into the form of a Roman province. However, this war broke 
A n f^i ^^^ afresh, under the government of Ostorius, who 
succeeded Plautius. The Britains, either despising 
bis inexperience, or hoping to gain advantage over a person 
newly invested with command, rose up in arms, and disclaimed 
the Roman power. The Iceni, the Cangi, and the Brigantes, 
made a powerful resistance, though they were at length over- 
come; but the Silures, or inhabitants of South Wales, under 
their king Caractacus, were the most formidable opponents that 
the Roman prenerals had ever yet encountered. This bravo 
barbarian not only made a gallant defence, but often seemed 
to claim a doubtful victory. He removed the seat of war into 
the least accessible parts of the country, and for nine years 
kept the Romans in continual alarm. 

This gep<^ral, however, upon the approach of Ostorius, find- 
ing himself obliged to come to a decisive er^agement, addressed 
his countrymen with calm resolution; telling them, that this bat- 
tle would either establish their liberty, or confirm their servitude 
— thai they ought to remember the bravery of their ancestors, 
by whose valour they were delivered from taxes and tributes, 
mid thskt tlus was the time to show themselves equal to their 



HISTORY OF ROME. 173 

progenitors. Nothing, however, that undisciplined valour was 
able to perform^ could avail against the Roman legions. After 
an obstinate fight, the Britons were entirely, routed. The wife- 
and daughter of Caractacus were tak^n prisoners; and hehiuir- 
self, seeking refuge with Cartismandua, queen of tlieBrigaute^, 
was treacherously given up to the conqueroi^^ ^Mieu he was 
brought to Rome, nothing could e^^ed the 'i^jwiosity o^" the 
people to behold a man who had for so many >^ears braved \\w 
power of the empire. On his part, he testified ny mark of base 
dejection; but, as he was led through the streets, happcuinor 
to observe the splendour of every object arounl['*hi'm, " Alas." 
cried he, '' how is it possible, that people possessed of such 
magnificence at home, could think of envpug Caractacus an 
humble cottage in Britain!" When he was brought before thS^ 
emperor, whilst the other captives begged for pity with the most 
abject lamentations, Caractacus stood before the tribunal with 
an intrepid air, and seemed rather willing to accept a pardon, 
than meanly solicitous of suing for it. '^ If," cried he, to- 
wards the end of his speech, " I had yielded immediately, and 
without opposition, neither my fortune would have been re- 
markable, nor my glory memorable ; — you would have ceased 
to be victorious, and I should have been forgotten. If now, 
therefore, you spare my life, I shall continue a perpetual ex- 
ample of your clemency." Claudius had the generosity to par- 
don him, and Ostorius was decreed a triumph ; which, how- 
ever, he did not long live to enjoy. 

In the beginning of liis reign, Claudius gave the highest 
hopes of a happy continuance ; but he soon began to lessen his 
care for the public, and to commit to his favourites all the con- 
cerns of the empire. This weak prince, from his infancy, had 
been in a state of pupilage; and now, when called to goveriv, 
was unable to act but under the direction of others. The chief 
of his instructors was his wife Messelina, whose name has al- 
most become a common appellation for women of abandoned 
character. 

By her, was Claudius urged on to commit cruelties which 
he considered only as wholesome severities, whilst her de- 
baucheries became every day more notorious, and her lewd- 
ness exceeded any thing that had ever been seen in Rome. 
Her crimes and enormities, however, being at length discover- 
ed, she, together with her paramour, Caius Silius, sufiered that 
death which they had so justly deserved. 

Claudius took for his second wife, Agrippina, the daughter 
of his brother Germanicus; a woman of cruel and ambitious 

P 2 



1 



174 HISTORY OF ROME. 



i spirit, whose whole aim being to procure the succession fbf 
■^ Nero, her son by a former marriage, she treated Claudius with 
such haughtiness, that he was heard to declare, when heated 
with wine, that it was his fate to suffer the disorders of his 
wives, and to be thefr executioner. This expression sunk 
deep in her mind, and engaged all her faculties, to prevent the 
blow. She therefore resolved not to defer a crime meditated 
by her a long while before ; which was, to poison him. She 
for some time, however, debated within herself^ in what mari- 
ner she should administer the poison ; fearing that too strong 
a dose would discover her treachery, and that one too weak 
might fail in its effect. At length, she fixed on a drug of sin- 
gular Efficacy, to destroy his intellect^ and yet not suddenly to 
terminate his life. As she had been long conversant in this 
horrid practice, she applied to a woman, called Locusta, noto- 
rious for assisting on such occasions* The poison was ad- 
ministered amongst mushrooms ; a dish of which he was par- 
ticularly fond. Shortly after having eaten, he dropped down 
insensible ; &ut this caused no alarm, as it was usual for him 
to sit indulging, until he had stupified all his faculties, and it 
became necessary to carry him off to his bed. However, his 
constitution seemed to overcome the effects of the poison; and 
Agrippina therefore ordered a wretched physician, who was 
her creature, to thrust a poisoned feather down his throaty 
under pretence of an emetic ; which despatched him. 

jj p Nero, though only seventeen years of age, begaui 

«,* ' his reign with the general approbation of mankind. 

, -p. * He appeared just, liberal, and humane: when a war- 

' rant for the execution of a criminal was brought hire 

to be signed, he was heard to cry out, with apparent concerns 

^' Would to heaven, that I had never learned to write!" 

But, as he increased in years, his crimes seemed to increase 
in equal proportion. The execution of his own mother Agrip- 
-pina, was the first alarming instance of his cruelty. Failing in. 
an attempt to have her drowned at sea, he ordered that she 
should be put to death in her palace ; and going himself to gaze 
upon the dead body, was heard to say, that he never thought 
his mother had been so handsome. 

All the bonds of virtue being thus broken through,. Nera 
BOW gave a loose to his appetites^ which were not only sordid 
but inhuman. There seemed an odd contrast in his disposi- 
tion ; for, while he practised cruelties sufficient to make the 
mind shudder with horror, he was fond of those amusing arts 
v:hich softea and lefitie the heart. He was particularly ad* 



HISTORY OF ROME. IT& 

dieted, even from his childhood, to music, and not totally igno- 
rant of poetry: but chariot driving was his favourite pursuit; 
and all these he w^ls frequently seen to exhibit in public. 

It would have been happy for mankind, had he confine(S? 
himself to these ; and, satisfied with being contemptible, sought 
not also to become formidable. His cruelties outdid even all 
his other extravagancies. He seemed also studious of finding 
out pleasures, as well as crimes, against nature. Being attired 
in the habit of a woman, and covered with a yellow veil, like a 
bride, he was wedded to one of his abominable companions, 
called Pythagoras, and again to his freedman Doriphorus. A 
great part of the city of Rome was consumed by fire, in hi& 
time ; and most historians ascribe the conflagration to him. It 
is said that he stood upon a high tower, during the continuance 
of the flames, enjoying the sight, and repeating, in a player's 
habit, and in a theatrical manner, some verses upon the de- 
struction of Troy. As a proof of his guilt upon this occasion, 
no assistance was permitted towards extinguishing the flames ; 
and several persons were seen setting fire to the houses, 
alleging that they had orders. However this was, the emperor 
used every eflbrt to throw the odium of so detestable an action 
upon the Christians, who were at that time gaining ground in 
Rome. Nothing could be more dreadful than the persecution, 
raised against them, upon this fatal occasion. Some were 
covered with- the skins of wild beasts, and in that figure de- 
voured by dogs. Some were crucified, and others burned 
alive. *' When the day was not sufficient for their tortures,'* 
says Tacitus, " the flames in which they perished served to il- 
luminate the night; whilst Nero, dressed in the habit of a 
charioteer, regaled himself with their torments, from his gar- 
dens, and entertained the people at one time with their suff*er- 
ings, at another with the games of the circus." In this perse- 
cution, St. Paul was beheaded, and St. Peter crucified with hia 
head downwards; which manner of death he chose, as being 
more dishonourable than that of his Master. 

A conspiracy formed against Nero, by Piso, a man of great 
power and integrity, which was prematurely discovered, opened 
a new train of suspicion that destroyed many of the principal 
families in Rome. The two most remarkable personages wha 
fell on this occasion, were Seneca the philosopher, and Lucan 
the poet, who was his nephew. Nero, either having real testi- 
mony against him, or hating him for his virtues, sent a tribune 
to Seneca, informing him that he was suspected as an accom- 
plice. The tribune found the philosopher at table with. Pait- 






176 HISTORY OP ROME. 

lina, bis wife; and, informing him of his business, Seneca, 
without any emotion, replied: that his welfare depended upon 
no man; that he had never been accustomed to mdulge the 
errors of the emperor, and would not do so now. When this 
answer was brought to Nero, he demanded whether Seneca 
seemed afraid of death. The tribune replying that he did not 
appear in the least terrified: ''Then go to him again," said the 
emperor, '' and give him 'my orders to die." Accordingly, he 
fsent a centurion to Seneca, signifying that it was the en>- 
peror's pleasure that he should die. Seneca seemed no way 
discomposed. He endeavoured to console his wife, for his 
loss, and exhorted her to a life of persevering virtue. But she 
seemed determined on not surviving him, and pressed her re- 
quest to die with him, so earnestly, that Seneca, who had long 
looked upon death as a benefit, at last gave his consent; and 
the veins of both their arms were opened at the same time. As 
Seneca was old, and much enfeebled by the austerities of his 
life, the blood flowed but slowly; so that he caused the veins 
of his legs and thighs also to be opened. His pains were long 
and violent; but they were not capable of repressing his forti- 
tude, or his eloquence. He dictated a discourse to two secre- 
taries, which was read with great avidity after his death, by 
the people; but it has since perished in the wreck of time* 
His agonies being now drawn out to a great length, he at last 
demanded poison from his physician: but this also failed in 
its effect; his body being already exhausted, and incapable of 
exciting its operation. He was then carried into a warm bath, 
which served only to prolong his sufferings : at length, there* 
fore, he was put into a stove, the vapour of which quickly des- 
patched him. At this time, his wife Paulina, having fallen into 
d swoon, from the loss of blood, had her arms bound up by her 
domestics; by which means, she survived her husband for 
some years, and by her conduct during the rest of her life, 
seemed always mindful of her own love, and his example. 

The death of Lucan (classically Lucanus) was not less re- 
markable. The veins of his arms being opened, after he had 
lost a great quantity of blood, perceiving his hands and legs 
already dead, whilst the vital parts still continued warm and 
vigorous, he called to mind a dv^scription in his own poem, the 
Pharsalia, of a person dying in similar circumstances ; and ex 
pired whilst he was repeating that beautiful passage : 

" Nee sicut vulnere sanguis 

" Emicuit lentus. Ruptis cadit undique venis 

" Pars ultima trunci. 



HISTORY OF ROME. 177 

* Tradidit in lethum vacuos, vitalibus artus, 
"At tumidos qua pulmo jacet, qua viscera fervent 
**Haiserunt ibi fata diu; Luctataque multum 
" Hac cum parte, viri vix omnia membra tulerunt," 

yy p The death of Petronius about this time, is too re- 

j^*^ * markable to be passed over in silence. This person, 
A T> fifi whom many modern historians suppose to be the 
* author of a work of no great merit, entitled Satyricon, 
which is still remaining, was an epicurean, both in principle 
and practice. Even in so luxurious a court as that of Nero, 
he was particularly noted for his refinement in luxury. He 
was accused of being acquainted with Piso's conspiracy, and 
committed to prison. Petronius could not endure the anxiety 
of suspense, wherefore he resolved upon putting himself to 
death ; which he performed in a manner corresponding with the 
way in which he had lived. He opened his veins, and then 
closed them — then opened them again, as his feelings prompted, 
with the utmost cheerfulness and tranquillity. He conversed 
with his friends, not on maxims of philosophy, or grave sub- 
jects, but upon such topics as had amused his gayest revels. 
He listened whilst they recited the lightest poems, and by no 
action, no word nor circumstance, betrayed the perplexity of a 
dying person. Shortly after him, Numicius Thermus was put 
to death, as likewise Barea Soranus, and Psetus Thraseas, 
The destroying of the two last, Tacitus calls an attack upon 
virtue itself. Thraseas died in the midst of his friends and 
philosophers, conversing and reasoning on the nature of the 
soul. His wife, who was the daughter of the celebrated Arria, 
was desirous of following her mother's example ; but he dis- 
suaded her from it. The death of the valiant Corbulo, who 
had gained Nero so many advantages over the Parthians, fol- 
lowed next. Nor did the empress Poppea herself escape. 
At length, human nature grew weary of being her own perse- 
cutor, and the whole world seemed to rouse, as if by common 
consent, to rid the earth of a monster. 

Sergius Galba, at that time governor of Spain, was equally 
remarkable for his wisdom in peace, and his courage in war ; 
bui, as all talents under corrupt princes are dangerous, he, for 
some years, had seemed willing to court obscurity, giving him- 
self up to an inactive life, and avoiding every opportunity of 
signalizing his valour. 

But, anxious to free his country of a disgrace to human na- 
ture, he accepted the invitation of Vindex, to march with an 
army towards Rome. The reputation of that general was suchj^ 



178 HISTORY OF ROME. 

that from the moment he declared against Nero, the tyrant 
considered himself as at an end. He received the account 
when at supper; and, instantly struck with terror, overturned 
the table with his foot, breaking two crystal vases of immense 
value. He then fell into a swoon ; from which, when he re- 
covered, he tore his clothes, and struck his head, crying out, 
T that he was utterly undone. He now, therefore, called for 
I Locusta to furnish him with poison ; and thus prepared for the 
worst in this life, he retired to the Servilian gardens, with a re- 
solution of flying into Egypt. Being prevented in this, and the 
revolt becoming general, he went from house to house, but 
every door was shut against him, and none found to answer his 
enquiries. Now reduced to a state of desperation, he desired 
that one of his favourite gladiators might come to despatch 
him ; but even in this request there was none who would obey. 
"Alas!" cried he, "have I neither friend nor enemy !" and 
then, running desperately forth, seemed resolved to plung head- 
long into the Tyber. But just then, his courage beginning to 
fail him, he made a sudden stop, as if willing to recall his 
reason, and asked for some secret place, where he might re- 
assume his courage, and meet death with becoming fortitude. 
In this distress, Phaon, one of his freedmen, offered him his 
country-house, about four miles distant, where he might for 
some time remain concealed. Nero accepted his offer; and, 
half dressed as he was, with his head covered, and hiding his 
face with his handkerchief, he mounted on horseback, attend- 
ed by two of his domestics, of whom the wretched Sporus was 
one. His journey, though short, was crowded with adventures. 
An earthquake gave him the first alarm. The lightning from 
heaven next flashed in his face. Around him, he heard nothing 
but confused noises from the camp, and the cries of the soldiers, 
imprecating a thousand evils on his head. A passenger meet- 
ing him on the way, cried : " There go men, in pursuit of 
Nero." Another asked him was there any news of Nero in 
the city. His horse taking fright at a dead body which lay 
on the road, he dropped his handkerchief; and a soldier who 
was near, addressed him by name. He now, therefore, quitted 
his horse, and forsaking the high road, entered a thicket that 
led towards the back part of Phaon's house, through which he 
crept, making the best of his way amongst the reeds and 
brambles with which the place was overgrewn. 

During this interval, the senate, finding the praetorian guards 
had taken part with Galba, declared him emperor, and con- 
demned Nero to die, ^^more majorum;^^ that is, according to 



HISTORY OF ROME. 179 

(he rigour of the ancient laws. When told of the resolution 
of the senate, he asked the messenger what was meant by being 
punished according to the rigour of the ancient laws. He ai> 
swored, that the criminal was to be stripped naked, his head to 
be fixed in a pillory, and in that posture he was to be scourged 
to death. Nero was so terrified at this, that he seized two 
poignards which he had brought with him; but, having ex- 
amined their points, he returned them into their shield ; pre- 
tending that the fatal moment had not yet arrived. He then 
desired Sporus to begin the lamentations which were made at 
funerals : he next entreated that some of his attendants would 
die, to give him courage by their example ; and afterwards be- 
gan to reproach his ov/n cowardice ; crying out : " Does this 
become Nero? Is this trifling weH timed? No, no; let me be 
courageous." There was no time indeed, to spare: the sol- 
diers who had been sent in pursuit of him, were just then 
approaching the house: wherefore, hearing the sound of the 
horses' feet, he put a dagger to his throat, with which, by the 
assistance of Epaphroditus, his freedman and secretary, he 
gave himself a mortal wound. However, he was not yet quite 
dead, when one of the centurions entering the room, and pre- 
tending to come to his relief, attempted to stop the blood with 
his cloak. But Nero, regarding him with a stern countenance, 
said: "It is now too late. Is this your fidelity?" Upon 
which, with his eyes fixed, and frightfully staring, he expired; 
even in death a ghastly spectacle of innoxious tyranny. 

He reigned thirteen years, seven months, and twenty-eight 
days, and died in the thirty-second year of his age. 
yj p Galba was seventy-two years old, when he was de- 

Q* * Glared emperor, and was then in Spain with his lo- 
A T) fiQ S^^^S' However, he soon found that his elevation 
' to the throne was but an inlet to new disquietudes. 
He seemed to have three objects in view: to curb the inso- 
lence of the soldiers: to punish those vices which had arrived 
at an enormous height in the last reign ; and to replenish the 
exchequer, which had been quite drained, by the prodigality of 
his predecessors. But permitting himself to be governed by 
favourites, he at one time showed himself severe and frugal, at 
another remiss and prodigal; condemning some illustrious 
persons without a hearing, and pardoning others, though guilty. 
In consequence of this, many seditions were kindled, and 
several factions promoted in different parts of the empire, but 
particularly in Germany. 



180 HISTORY OF ROME. 



Galba, being informed of these commotions, was sensible 
that besides his age, he was less respected for not having an 
heir. He determined, therefore, to put what he had formerly 
designed in execution, and to adopt some person whose virtues 
might deserve such advancement, and protect his declining 
age. His favourites, understanding his intention, instantly re- 
solved on giving him an heir of their own choosing; so tha* 
upon this occasion, there arose a great contention amongst 
them. Otho made warm application for himself; alleging the 
great services he had done the emperor, as being the first man 
of note who came to his assistance, when he had declared 
against Nero. However, Galba, being fully resolved to con- 
sult the public good, only, rejected his suit; and, on a day ap- 
pointed, ordered Piso Lucinianus to attend him. The character 
given of Piso, by historians, is, that he was every way worthy 
of the honour designed him. He was no way related to Galba, 
and had no other interest than merit, to recommend him to his 
favour. Taking this youth, therefore, by the hand, in the 
presence of his friends, he adopted him to succeed in the em- 
pire ; giving him the most wholesome lessons for guiding his 
future conduct. Piso's behaviour showed that he was highly 
deserving this distinction : in all his deportment, there appeared 
that modesty, firmness, and evenness of mind, which bespoke 
him rather capable of discharging the duties of his present dig- 
nity, than ambitious of obtaining it. But the army and the 
senate did not seem equally uninterested upon this occasion : 
they had been so long used to bribery and corruption, that 
they could now bear no emperor who was not in a capacity of 
satisfying their avarice. The adoption, therefore, of Piso was 
but coldly received; for his virtues were no recommendation 
to a people of universal dspravity. 

Otho, who had been a great favourite of Galba, and hoped 
to be adopted his successor in the empire, finding his expecta- 
tions disappointed, and still further stimulated by an immense 
load of debts, which he had contracted by his riotous way of 
living, determined on obtaining by force, what he could not by 
peaceable succession. Having corrupted the fidelity of the 
army, he stole secretly fro^ i the emperor, whilst he was sacri- 
ficing ; and, assembling f e soldiers, in a short speech urged 
the cruelties and avarice uf Galba. Finding the invectives re- 
ceived with universal s outs of approbation, he entirely threw 
off the mask, and avc ,/ed his intentions of dethroning him. 
The soldiers, being rij.. for sedition, immediately seconded his 



1 



HISTORY OF ROME. 181 ] 

views: wherefore, taking Otho on their shoulders, they de- 
clared him emperor; and, to strike the citizens with terror, 
carried him, with their swords drawn, into the camp. 

Soon afterwards, finding Galba in some measure deserted 
by his adherents, the soldiers rushed in upon him; trampling 
under foot the crowd which then filled the forum. The em- 
peror, seeing them approach, appeared to recollect all his for- 
mer fortitude ; and, bending his head forward, bid the assassins 
strike it off, if it were for the good of .he people. This was 
quickly performed : and his head, being set upon the point of 
a lance, was presented to Otho, who ordered it to be con- 
temptuously carried round the camp ; his body remaining in 
the street, unburied, until interred by one of his slaves. 
A n fiQ Cralba died in the seventy-third year of his age, 
after a short reign of seven months ; illustrious by 
his virtues, and uncontaminated by the vices of those favourites 
who shared m his downfal. 

Otho, who was now elected emperor, began his reign by a 
signal instance of clemency, in pardoning Marius Celsus, who 
had been highly favoured by Galba; and, not contented with 
barely forgiving, he advanced him to the highest honours ; as- 
serting, that *' fidelity deserved every reward." 

During these transactions, the legions in lower Germany, 
having been purchased by the profuse bounties 4nd specious 
promises of Vitellius, their general, were at length induced to 
proclaim him enxperor ; and, regardless of the senate, they de- 
clared that they had an equal right with the cohorts of Rome, 
to appoint to that high station. 

Otho departed from the city, in ail haste, to give Yitellius 
battle. The army of the latter, which consisted of seventy- 
thousand men, was commanded by his generals, Valens and 
Cecinna; he himself remaining in Gaul, in order to bring up 
the rest of his forces. Both sides advanced to meet each 
other, with so much animosity and precipitation, that three 
considerable battles were fought in as many days : one, near 
Placentia; another, near Cremona; and a third, at a place 
called Castor: in all of which, Otho and the Romans had the 
advantage. But these successes were of short continuance. 
Valens and Cecinna, who had hitherto acted separately, having 
joined their forces, and recruited their armies with fresh sup- 
plies, resolved to come to a general engagement. In this, 
Otho's forces were totally overthrown, and he killed himself 
shortly afterwards; having reigned three months and five davs.; 

Q 



182 HISTORY OF ROIVIE. 

A D 70 Vitellius was immediately declared emperor, by 
the senate, and received those marks of distinction 
which were now accustomed to follow the appointments of the 
strongest side. 

On his arrival at Rome, he entered the city, not as a place 
which he came to govern with justice, but as a town which had 
become his own, by the laws of conquest. 

He soon gave himself up to ail kinds of luxury and profuse- 
ness : but gluttony wat his favourite vice. His entertainments, 
though seldom at his own cost, were enormously expensive: 
he frequently invited himself to the tables of his subjects; 
breakfasting with one, dining with another, and supping with a 
third, all in the same day. 

By the continuance of such vices, added to tne most atro- 
cious cruelties, he became not only a burthen to himself, but 
odious to all mankind. Having thus become insupportable to 
the inhabitants of Rome, the legions of the East, who had at 
first acquiesced in his dominion, began to revolt, and, shortly 
afterwards, unanimously determined to make Vespasian em- 
peror. 

During the preparations against him, Vitellius, though buried 
in luxury and sloth, resolved to make an effort to defend the 
empire; wherefore, his chief commanders, Valens and Cecinna, 
were rrdered to make all po^'sible preparations to resist the in- 
vaders. The first army that entered Italy with a hostile in- 
tention, was under the command of Antonius Primus, who was 
met by Cecinna near Cremona. A battle was expected; but, 
a negotiation taking place, Cecinna was prevailed on to change 
sides, and declare for Vespasian. His army, however, quickly 
repented of what they had done ; and, imprisoning their general, 
attacked Antonius, though without a leader. The engagement 
continued during the whole night ; and, in the morning, aftei 
a short repast, both armies encountered, a second time ; when 
the soldiers of Antonius, saluting the rising sun, according to 
custom, the Vitelhans, supposing that they had received new 
reinforcements, betook themselves to flight, after a loss of 
hi rty- thousand men. 

Vitellius, who was wallowing in all kinds of luxury and ex- > 
cess, now made offers to Vespasian, of resigning the empire, 
provided his life were spared, and a sufficient revenue allotted 
for his support. In order to enforce the terms of this request, 
he issued from his palace in deep mourning, with aU his do- 
Haestics weeping around him. He then went to offer the sword 



HISTORY OF ROME. 183„ 

of justice to Cecilius, the consul ; which he refusing, the abject 
emperor prepared to lay down the ensigns of the empire, in the 
temple of Concord : but, being interrupted by some person, 
who cried out that he himself was Concord, he resolved, upon 
so weak an encouragement, still to maintain his power, and im- 
mediately prepared for his defence. 

In this fluctuation of counsels, one Sabinus, wlw had advised 
Vitellius to resign, perceiving his ,^esperate siti^atfott, resol^ed^* 
by a bold step, to obHge Yespasian ; and accordingly, seized-"- 
upon the capitol. But he was premature in his attempt: the i 
soldiers of YitelUus attacked him with great fury ; and, prevail- 
ing by their numbers, soon laid that beautiful building in ashes. 
During this dreadful conflagration, Yitellius was feasting in the 
palace of Tiberius, and beholding, with great satisfaction, all^ 
the horrors of the assault. Sabinus was taken prisoner, and, 
shortly afterwards, executed, by the emperor's command. 
Young Domitian, his nephew, who was afterwards emperor, 
escaped by flight, in the habit of a priest ; and all the rest, who 
survived the Are, were put to the sword. 

But Antonius, Vespasian's commander, having arrived be- 
fore the walls of the city, the forces of Yitellius resolved upon 
defending it to thr^ utmost extremity. It was attacked on three 
sides with the greatest fury ; whilst the army within, sallying 
upon the besiegers, defended it with equal obstinacy. The 
battle lasted a whole day ; until, at last, the besieged were 
driven into the city, and a dreadful slaughter made of them in 
all the streets, which they in vain attempted to defend. 

The wretched emperor was soon found concealed in an ob- 
scure corner; from which he was taken, by a party of the con- 
quering soldiers. Still, however, willing to add a few hours 
more to his miserable existence, he begged to be kept in prison 
till the arrival of Yespasian at Rome ; pretending that he had 
secrets of importance to discover. But his entreaties were in 
vain : the soldiers, binding his hands behind him, and throwing 
a halter round his neck, led him along, half naked, into the 
public forum; upbraiding him, as they proceeded, with all those 
bitter reproaches, which their malice could suggest, or his 
own cruelty had deserved. At length, having reached the 
place of punishment, they killed him, with many blows ; and 
then, dragging the dead body through the streets, by a hook, 
they threw it, with all possible ignominy, into the Tyber. 
A T) 70 Vespasian, (properly Yespasianus,) was now 
declared emperor, by the unanimous consent both 
of the senate and the army, and dignified with all those titles 



184 HISTORY OF ROME. 

which now followed, rather the power, than the merit, of those 
who were appointed to govern. 

Having continued some months at Alexandria, in Egypt, he 
set out for Rome ; giving his son Titus the command of the 
army that was to lay siege to Jerusalem. He was met, many 
miles from Rome, by all the senate, and nearly half the inhabit- 
ants ; who gave the sincerest testimonies of their joy, in having 
an emperor of so great and experienced virtues. Nor did he, 
in the least, disappoint their expectations : being equally assid- 
. uous in rewarding merit and pardoning his adversaries ; in re- 
forming the manners of the citizens, and setting them the best 
example in his own. 

In the mean time, Titus carried on the war against the Jews, 
with vigour. This obstinate and infatuated people had long 
determined to resist the Roman power; vainly hoping to find 
protection from Heaven, which their impieties had offended. 
Their own historian, represents them as arrived at the highest 
pitch of iniquity. Nor was it sufficient that heaven and earth 
seemed combined against them : they had the most bitter dis- 
sensions amongst themselves, and were split into two partiea 
which robbed and destroyed each other with impunity; still 
pillaging, and, at the same time, boasting th<*ir zeal for the re- 
ligion of their ancestors. 

At the head of one of those parties, was an incendiary, 
named John. This fanatic affected sovereign power, and dis- 
tressed the whole city of Jerusalem, and all the towns around, 
by tumult and pillage. In a short time, a new faction arose, 
headed by one Simon; who, gathering multitudes of robbers 
and murderers, that had fled to the mountains, attacked many 
cities and towns, and reduced all Idumea under his authority. 
Jerusalem, at length, became the theatre in which these two 
demagogues began to exercise their mutual animosity. John 
had possession of the temple, and Simon was admitted into the 
city : both equally enraged against each other ; while slaughter 
and devastation followed their pretensions. Thus, did a city, 
formerly celebrated for unity and peace, become the seat of tu- 
mult and confusion. 

It was in this miserable situation, when Titus began his ope- 
rations, within about six furlongs of Jerusalem, during the feast 
of the Passover; the place being filled with an infinite multi- 
tude of people, who had come to celebrate that great solemnity. 
The approach of the Romans produced a temporary recon- 
ciliation between the contending factions within the city; so 
that they unanimously determined to oppose the common enemv 



HISTORY OF ROME. 185 ;^ 

first, and decide their domestic quarrels at a more conveniettt 
season. 

Their first sally, which was made with much fury and reso- 
lution, threw the besiegers into great disorder, and obliged 
them to abandon their camp, and fly to the mountains. How- 
ever, rallying immediately afterwards, the Jews were forced 
back into the city, while Titus, in person, showed surprising 
instances of valour and abiUty. 

These advantages over the Romans, only renewed in the 
besieged the desire of private revenge. A tumult ensued in 
the temple, in which several of both parties were slain ; and in 
this manner, upon every remission on the part of those with^ 
out, the factions of John and Simon violently raged against 
each other within ; agreeing only in their resolution to defend 
the city against the Romans. 

Jerusalem was strongly fortified, by three walls, on every 
side ; except where it was protected by deep valleys. Titus 
began by battering down the outward wall ; the destruction of 
which, after much fatigue and danger, he effected ; all the time 
displaying great clemency to the Jews, and offering them re- 
peated assurances of pardon. Five days after the commence- 
ment of the siege, he broke through the second wall; and, 
though driven back by the defendants, he recovered his ground, 
and made preparations for battering the third wall, which was 
their last defence. But first he sent Josephus, their country 
man, into the city, to exhort them to yield ; who, using all his 
eloquence to persuade them, was only reviled with scoffs and 
reproaches. The siege was consequently continued with greater 
vigour than before : several batteries for engines were raised, 
which were no sooner erected, than destroyed by the enemy. 
At length, it was resolved, in council, to surround the whole 
city with a trench; and thus prevent all succour from abroad. 
This, which was quickly executed, seemed no way to intimi- 
date the Jews. Though famine, and pestilence, its usual at- 
tendant, began to make the most horrid ravages amongst them, 
yet this desperate people still determined to hold out. Titus 
now cut down all the woods to a considerable distance from 
the city, and causing more batteries to be raised, he at length 
made an effectual breach ; and in five days entered the citadel 
by force. The Jews, however, continued to deceive them- 
selves with absurd and erroneous expectations, whilst many 
false prophets deluded the multitude; declaring they should 
soon have assistance from God. The heat of the battle now 
raged around the inner wall of the temple, while the defend- 



186 HISTORY OF ROME. 

ants des»perately combated from the top. Titus was anxious 
to save this beautiful structure ; but a soldier casting a brand 
into some adjacent buildings, the fire communicated to the 
temple; and, notwithstanding the utmost endeavours on both 
sides, the edifice was quickly consumed. The sight of their 
temple in ruins, effectually served to damp the ardour of the 
Jews. They now began to perceive that heaven had forsaken 
them, while their cries and lamentations echoed from the 
neighbouring mountains. Even those who were expiring, lifted 
up their dying eyes to bewail the loss of that temple, which 
they valued more than life itself. The most resolute, however, 
still endeavoured to defend the upper and stronger part of the 
city, named Sion ; but Titus, with his battering engines, soon 
made himself master of the place. John and Simon were 
taken from the vaults, where they had concealed themselves : 
the former was condemned to perpetual imprisonment, and the 
latter reserved to grace the conqueror's triumph. The greater 
part of the populace were put to the sword, and the city, after 
a six month's siege, was entirely razed, by the plough; so 
that, according to our Saviour's prophecy, not one stone re- 
mained upon another. The number of those who perished in 
this siege, according to Josephus, amounted to above a million, 
and the captives to almost one-hundred-thousand. 

Upon the taking of Jerusalem, the soldiers would have 
crowned Titus as a conqueror, but he modestly refused the 
honour; alleging that he was only an instrument in the hand 
of Heaven, which manifestly declared its wrath against the 
Jews. At Rome, however, every voice proclaimed the victor's 
praise ; who had not only showed himself an excellent general, 
but a courageous combatant: when returning therefore in tri^i 
umph, accompanied by his father, his entry was marked by all 
the magnificence and joy in the power of men to express. All 
things that were esteemed valuable or beautiful amongst men, 
were brought to adorn this great occasion. Amongst the rich 
spoils, were exposed vast quantities of gold, taken out of the 
temple; but the Book of the Holy Law was not the least re- 
markable of the magnificent profusion. This was the first 
time that Rome had seen the father and the son triumph to- 
gether. A triumphal arch was erected on this occasion, on 
which were described all the victories of Titus over the Jews ; 
which remains almost entire to this day. Vespasian likewise 
built a temple to Peace, wherein were deposited most of the 
Jewish spoils; and having now calmed all commotions in every 
part of the empire, he shut up the temple of Janus, which had 



HISTORY OF ROME. 187 

been x)pen about five or six years. Yespasian, having reigned 
ten years, beloved by his subjects, and deserving their afTection, 
was surprised by an indisposition at Campania, which, from the 
beginning, he declared would be fatal; and, perceiving his end 
approaching, as he was just going to breathe his last, he cried 
out, that an emperor ought to die standing : wherefore, raising 
himself upon his feet, he died in the hands of those that sus- 
tained him. 

Few emperors have received a better character from histo- 
rians ; yet all his numerous acts of generosity and magnificence 
could not protect him from the imputation of rapacity and 
avarice ; as he descended to the laying of imposts, which, in 
some instances, were not only unusual but dishonourable. 
* T) 70 Titus, being joyfully received as emperor, began 
to reign with the practice of every virtue that be- 
came a sovereign and a man. During the life of his father, 
there were many charges against him, of cruelty, lust, and 
prodigality ; but, upon his exaltation to the throne, he seemed 
entirely to abandon his former vices, and became an example 
of the greatest moderation and humanity. His first step to- 
wards gaining the affection of his subjects, was, his moderating 
his passions, and bridling his inclinations. He had long loved 
Berenice, the sister of Agrippa, king of Judea; a woman of 
the greatest beauty, and the most refined allurements. But, 
knowing that the connexion with her was entirely disagreeable 
to the people of Rome, he gained a victory over his affections, 
and sent her away, notwithstanding their mutual attachment, 
and the many arts she used to induce him to change his reso- 
lution. He next discarded all those who had been the usual 
ministers of his pleasures, and forbore to countenance the com- 
panions of his looser recreations, though he had formerly taken 
great pains in the selection. 

This moderation, added to his justice and generosity, pro- 
cured him the esteem of all good men, and the appellation of 
" The delight of mankind," which all his actions seemed cal- 
culated to ensure. 

Titus took particular care to punish all informers, false wit- 
nesses, and promoters of dissension. Those wretches, who 
had their rise in the hcentiousness and impurity of former 
reigns, had become so numerous, that their crimes called loudly 
for punishment. Of these, therefore, he daily made public ex- 
amples : condemning them to be scourged in the public streets; 
next, to be dragged through the theatre, and then to be banish- 
ed into the uninhabited parts of the empire, or sold as slaves 



188 HISTORY OF ROME. 

His courtesy, and readiness to do good, hai^e been celebrated 
even by Christian writers ; his principal rule being, never to 
send away any petitioner dissatisfied. One night, recollecting 
that he had done nothing beneficial to mankind, the day pre 
ceding, he cried out, amongst his friends: " I have lost a day!'' 
— a sentence, too remarkable, not to be universally known. 

Hearing that two noblemen had conspired against him, he 
readily forgave them ; and, the following day, placing them 
next himself in the theatre, he put into their hands the swords 
with which the gladiators fought; demanding their judgment 
and approbation, whether they were of sufficient length. 

In this reign, an eruption of Mount Vesuvius caused con- 
siderable damage ; overwhelming many towns, and throwing 
the ashes into countries more than a hundred miles distant. 
Upon this memorable occasion, Pliny, the naturalist, lost hia 
life. Impelled by too eager a curiosity to observe the eruption, 
he was suffocated in the flames. There happened, also, about 
this time, a fire at Rome, which continued three days and 
nights; to which, succeeded a plague, that caused the burial 
of ten thousand men in a day. The emperor, however, did all 
that lay in his power to repair the damages -sustained by the 
public ; and, with respect to the city, declared that he would 
take the whole loss upon himself. 

These disasters were, in some measure, counterbalanced 
by the successes gained by Agricola, in Britain. That excel- 
lent general, having been sent into this country towards the 
latter end of Yespasian's reign, showed himself equally expert 
in quelling the refractory, and civihzing those who had formerly 
submitted to the Roman power. The Ordovices, inhabitants 
of North Wales, were the first that were subdued. He then 
made a descent upon Mona, (the island of Anglesea,) which 
surrendered at discretion. Having thus made himself master 
of the whole country, he used every method to restore disci- 
pline to his own army, and introduce some degree of politeness 
amongst the conquered. He exhorted them, both by advice 
and example, to build tempics, theatres, and stately houses. 
He caused the sons of their nobility to be instructed in the 
liberal arts : he had them taught the Latin language ; and in- 
duced therA to imitate the Roman mode of dress and living. 
Thus, by degrees, this barbarous people began to assume the 
luxurious manners of their conquerors, and, in some measure, 
to outdo them in all the refinements of sensual pleasures. On 
account of these successes in Britain, Titus was saluted /m- 
peratovj the fifteenth time : but he did not long survive thjj 



;1 



HISTORY OF ROME. 189 

honour; being surprised, at a little distance from Rome, by 
a fever. He expired shortly afterwards ; but his brother Do- 
mitian, who had long wished to govern, was not entirely free 
from the imputation of treachery, on this occasion. His death 
was in the forty- first year of his age ; having reigned two years, 
two months, and twenty days. 
A D Q-- Domitian, (properly called Domitianus,) com- 
menced his reign with the universal satisfaction 
of the people ; as he appeared equally remarkable for his clem- 
ency, liberality, and justice. 

But he soon began to show the natural deformity of his 
mind. Instead of cultivating literature, as his father and his 
brother had done, he neglected all kinds of study ; addicting 
himself wholly to other pursuits, particularly archery, and the 
mean practice of gaming. He was so very expert in archery, 
that he would frequently cause one of his slaves to stand at a 
considerable distance, with his hands spread, as a mark, and 
w^ould shoot his arrows with so great exactness, as to stick 
them all between his fingers. He instituted three sorts of 
contests, to be observed every ^\e years ; in music, horseman- 
ship, and wrestling; but, at the same time, he banished all 
philosophers and mathematicians from Rome. No emperor, 
before him, entertained the people with so great a variety of 
expensive exhibitions. During these diversions, he distributed 
large rewards; sitting as president himself, adorned with a 
purple robe and crown, with the priests of Jupiter, and the col- 
lege of Flavian priests about him. The meanness of his oc- 
cupations, in solitude, was a strong contrast to his exhibitions 
of public ostentation. He usually spent his hours of retirement 
in catching flies, and sticking them through with a bodkin; so 
that one of his servants being asked if the emperor was alone, 
answered — that he had not so much as a fly to bear him com- 
pany. 

His vices seemed every day to increase with the duration of 
his reign. His ungrateful treatment of Agricola discovered 
the first symptom of his natural malevolence. Domitian was 
always particularly fond of obtaining a military reputation ; and 
therefore jealous of it in others. He had marched, some time 
before, into Gaul, upon a pretended expedition against the 
Catti, a people of Germany ; and, without ever seeing the ene- 
my, he resolved to have the honour of a triumph, upon his re- 
turn to Rome. For that purpose, he purchased a number of 
slaves, whom he dressed in German habits, and, at the head 
of this miserable procession, entered the city, amidst the ap 



i 



190 HISTORY OF ROME. 

parent applause, but concealed contempt, of all his subjects. 
The successes, therefore, of Agricola, in Britain, affected him 
with an extreme degree of envy. This admirable general pur- 
sued the advantages which he had already obtained. He con- 
quered the Caledonians, and overcame Galgacus, the British 
chief, at the head of thirty thousand men; and afterwards, send 
ing out a fleet to scour the coast, he first ascertained that 
Britain was an island. He likewise discovered and subdued 
the Orkneys, and thus reduced the whole into a civilized prov- 
ince of the Roman empire. When the account of these suc- 
cesses was brought to Domitian, he received it with seeming 
pleasure, but real uneasiness. He thought Agricola's rising 
reputation a tacit reproach upon his own inactivity; and, in- 
stead of attempting to emulate, he resolved to suppress, the 
merit of his services. He ordered him, therefore, external 
marks of approbation, and took care that triumphal ornaments, 
statues, and other honours, should be decreed him; but, at 
the same time, he removed him from his command, under pre- 
tence of appointing him to the government of Syria. 

By these means, Agricola surrendered up his province to 
Salustius Lucullus ; but he soon found that Syria was other- 
wise disposed of. Upon his return to Rome, which was pri- 
vately and by night, he was coolly received by the emperor ; 
and dying afterwards in retirement, it was supposed by some 
that his end was hastened by Domitian's direction. The em- 
peror, soon after, became sensible of the loss he had sustained, 
in being deprived of the services of so experienced a com- 
mander. The barbarous nations that surrounded the empire 
made frequent irruptions. The Sarmatians in Europe, joined 
with those of Asia, made a formidable invasion; at once de- 
stroying a whole legion and a general of the Romans. The 
Dacians, also, under the conduct of Decebalus, their king, 
made an inroad, and overthrew them in several engagements. 
At last, however, the barbarians were driven back, partly by 
force, and partly by the assistance of money ; which only served 
as a means of making future invasions with greater advantage. 
But, in whatever manner the enemy had been repelled, Domi- 
tian was determined not to lose the honour of a triumph. He 
returned, in great ostentation, to Rome ; and, not content with 
thus triumphing twdce, without a victory, he resolved to take the 
surname of Germanicus, for his conquest over a people with 
whom he had never contended. 

In proportion as the ridicule increased against him, his pride 
seemed every day to demand greater homage. He woul4| 



HISTORY OF ROME. 191 

permit his statues to be made only of gold and silver; he as^ 
sumed divine honours, and ordered that all men should treat 
him with the same appellations which they gave to the divinity. 
His cruelty was equal to his arrogance : he caused numbers 
of the most illustrious senators and others to be put to death, 
upon the most trifling pretences. One JElius Lamia was con- 
demned and executed, merely for jesting, though there was 
neither novelty nor poignancy in his humour. Cocceanus was 
murdered, only for celebrating the birth day of Otho. Pom- 
posianus shared the same fate, because it was foretold by an 
astrologer that he should be emperor. Salustius Lucullus, his 
lieutenant in Britain, was destroyed, only for having given his 
name to a new sort of lances of his own invention ; and Junius 
Rusticus, for publishing a book, in which he commended 
Thracea and Priscus, two philosophers who opposed Vespa- 
sian's elevation to the throne. . 

Lucius Antonius, governor of upper Germany, knowing how 
much the emperor was detested at home, resolved upon striking 
for the throne, and accordingly assumed the ensigns of imperial 
dignity. As he was at the head of a formidable army, he, for 
a long time, kept the field, with doubtful success ; but a sudden 
overflowing of the Rhine dividing his forces, he was attacked 
at that juncture by Normandus, the emperor's general, and 
totally routed. 

Domitian's severity was greatly increased by this short-lived 
success. In order to discover those who were accomplices 
with the adverse party, he invented new tortures; sometimes 
cutting off* the hands — at other times thrusting fire into the 
most delicate parts of those whom he suspected of being his 
enemies. During these severities, he aggravated his guilt by 
hypocrisy; never pronouncing sentence wi^'ihout a preamble 
full of gentleness and mercy. The night before he crucified 
the comptroller of his household, he seemed to treat him with 
the most cordial friendship, and ordered him a dish of meat 
from his own table. He carried Aretinus Clemens with hini in 
his own litter, the day he had concluded upon his death. He 
was particularly terrible to the senate and nobility ; the whole 
body of whom he frequently threatened entirely to extirpate. 
At one time, he surrounded the senate-house with his troops, 
to the great consternajtion of the senators. At another, he de- 
termined to amuse himself with their terrors, in a different man- 
ner. Having invited them to a pubhc entertainment, he re- 
ceived them all very formally, at the entrance of his palace, 
and conducted them into a spacious hall, hung round with 



\ 



\ 



192 HISTORY OF ROME. 

black, and partially lighted by a few melancholy lamps, which 
served only to show the gloomy horrors of the place. All 
around were to be seen nothing but coffins, each with a 
senator's name written on it, together with other objects of 
terror, and instruments of execution. While the company be- 
held all these preparations with silent agony, several men, hav- 
ing their bodies blackened, each with a sword in one hand, and 
a flaming torch in the other, entered the hall, and danced 
around them. After some time, when the guests, well know- 
ing Domitian's wanton cruelty, expected nothing less than in- 
stant death, the doors were thrown open, and a servant came 
• to inform them, that the emperor gave all the company leave 
to withdraw. These cruelties were rendered still more odious 
by his lust and avarice. Frequently, after presiding at an 
execution, he would retire with the most abandoned women, 
and use the same baths which they did. The last part of the 
tyrant's reign was more insupportable than any of the pre- 
ceding. Nero had exercised his cruelties without being a 
spectator; but a principal part of the Roman miseries, during 
this reign, was to behold the tyrant, with a stern air, and fiery 
visage, which he had rendered incapable of blushing, by con- 
tinued intemperance, directing the tortures, and mediciously 
pleased with adding irritation to every agony.-^ ^ . ^ 

But a period was soon to be put to this monster's cruelties. 
Amongst the number of those that he at once caressed and 
suspected, was ilCwife Domitia, whom he had taken from 
-^lius Lamia, her former husband. It was the tyrant's method 
to put down the names of all those he intended to destroy, in 
his tablets, which he kept about him with great circumspection. 
Domitia, fortunately happening to see them,, was astonished at 
finding her own name in the catalogue of tho^se doomed to de- 
struction. She showed the fakil list to Norbanus and Petro- 
iiius, prsefects of the praetorian bands, who found themselves 
also set down; and to Stephanus, the comptroller of the house- 
hold, who came into the conspiracy with alacrity. They fixed 
upon the eighteenth day of September,'for the completion of 
th^ir great attempt. When preparin^.to go to the bath, on the 
morning of that day, Petronius, his chamberlain, came to in- 
form him, that Stephanus desired to speak to him, upon an 
affair of ^ the utniost importance. The emperor having given 
orders that his attendants should retire, Stephanus entered with 
his hand in ^ scarf, which he had worn thus for some days, the 
better to c%n.ceal ^ dagger? as no one was permitted to ap- 
proach the emperor with arms. He began, by giving informal 



HISTORY OF ROME. 193 

tion of a pretended conspiracy, and exhibited a paper in which 
the particulars were specified. Whilst Domitian was reading 
the contents with an eager curiosity, Stephanus drew the dag- 
ger, and struck him in the body. The wound not being mortal, 
Domitian caught hold of the assassin, and threw him on the 
ground; calling out for assistance. But Parthenius, with his 
freed man, a gladiator, and two subaltern officers, coming in, 
they all ran furiously upon the emperor, and despatched him 
with seven wounds. 

It is incredible, what some writers relate, concerning Appoi- 
lonius Tyaneus, who was then at Ephesus. This person, 
whom some call a magician, and some a philosopher, but who, 
more probably, was nothing more than an impostor, was, as 
they r.ay, just at the minute in which Domitian was slain, lec- 
turing in one of the public gardens Qf that city. But, suddenly 
stopping short, he cried out, *' Courage, Stephanus — strike the 
tyrant." And then, after a pause: " Rejoice, my friends, the 
tyrant dies this day ; — ^tbi^ day, do I say ! — the very moment 
in which I kept silenceV he sutfers for his crimes ; he dies ! 

Many more prodigies are said to have portended his death; 
but the fate of such a monster seemed to produce more preter- 
natural disturbances, and more predictions, than it deserved. 
The truth is, that a belief of flitne3|N^d prodigies had again 
become prevalent; and the people werS'telapsing into pristine 
barbarity. A country of ignorance is always the proper soil 
for a harvest of imposture.' 0ttl^ 

V CHAPTER XXm. 

^e Jive good Emperoy^s of Rome; JYerva, Trajan, Adrian^ 

Antoninus Pius, JMarcus Aurelius, 
X 

A D 96 When it was publicly known that Domitian was 
slain, tha senate began to blacken his memory 
with every reproach. It was> ordered that his statues should 
be taken down, and a decree was' made, that all his inscriptions 
should be erased, his. name struck out of the registers of fame, 
and his funeral omittel^ 'die people, who now took little part 
in the affairs of goverJHfen^feoktd on his death with indiffer- 
ence ; the soldiers alone, whom he had loaded with favours^ 
and enriched by largesses, sincerely regretted their benefactor. 
The senate, therefore, resolved to provide a successor, be- 
R 



194 



HISTORY OF ROME. 



P 



fore the army could have an opportunity of taking the appoint- 
ment upon themselves; and Cocceius Nerva was chosen to 
the empire, the very day on which the tyrant was slain. He 
was of an illustrious family, as most say, by birth a Spaniard, 
and above sixty-five years old when he was called to the throae. 
He was at that time the most remarkable man in Rome, for his 
virtues, moderation, and respect to the laws; and he owed his 
exaltation to the blameless conduct of his former life. 

The people, being long accustomed to tyranny, regarded 
Nerva's gentle reign with rapture; and even gave his im- 
becihty (for his humanity was carried to,o far for justice) 
the name of benevolence. Upon ascending the throne, he 
solemnly swore that no senator of Rome should b^ put to 
death, by his command, during his reiga, though he gave ever 
so just a cause. This o^th he so religiously observed, that 
when two senators hjd^tfSnspired his death, he used no kind 



against "tlTeif majggtri 
eret^d^Q^hi4-.hpi^d w0Sm converted into money 
►^i)ohntian, which hacf been spared by the senate. 



of severity against tnen^ but, sending for them, to show that 
he was not ignopetnt of ^eir designs, he carried them with him 
to the public lireatre; a«d, preserving to each a dagger, he de- 
sired them tp'strike, as^^ was determined not to ward off the 
blow. During his short reign, he made several good laws. 
He put mi those slaves to death, who had, during the last reign, 
informed against "tlTeif m|j§J|rs.3|^e*^l^itt^l[o "Statues to be 

those' of 
He sold 
many rich robe^iJind mucb* of the splendid furniture of the 
palace, and retrenchcd^everal unreasonable expenses at coui^ 
A^lk^„gaime tim^ ne Mtd so little regard for money, that when 
Wie of his siiypcts found a large treasure, and wrote to the 
emperor foi' directions how to dispose of it, he received for an- 
swer that he might use it; but the finder informing him th^;^ 
was a fortune too large for a private person, Nerva, admirii^ 
his honesty, wrote him word, that then he might abuse i^- 

A hfe of such generosity and mildness, was not, however, 
without enemies. Yigilius Rufus, who had opposed him, was 
not only pardoned, but made his cs^^0S^e in the consulship. 
Calpufhius Crassus, also, with some others, formed a con- 
spiracy to tlestroy him; but h*" rested satisfied with banishing 
those^who were culpable, though the senate were for inflicting 
more rigorous punishments. But khe||i|S)st dangerous insur- 
rection against his interests, was wonWhe praetorian bands; 
who, headed by Casparius Olianus, insisted upon revenging the 
late emperor's death, whose memory was still dear to them, 
from his frequent liberaUties. Nerva, whose kiadness to good 



HISTORY OF ROME. 195 

men rendered him more obnoxious to the vicious, did all in his 
power to stop the progress of this insurrection : he presented 
himself to the mutinous soldiers, and, opening his bosom, de- 
sired them to strike there, rather than be guilty of so much in- 
justice. The soldiers, however, paid no regard to his remon- 
strances, but, seizing upon Petronius and Parthenius, killed 
them, in the most ignominious manner. Not content with this, 
they even compelled the emperor to approve of their sedition, 
and to make a speech to the people, in which he thanked the 
cohorts for their fidelity. 

So disagreeable a restraint upon the emperor's inclinations, | 
was, in the end, attended with the most happy effects; as it ^ 
caused the adoption of Trajan, to succeed him. Perceiving, 
that, in the present turbulent disposition of the times, he stood 
in need of an assistant in the empire,' seeing aside all his own 
relations, he fixed upon XJlpius Trajanus, (famiharly Trajan,) 
an utter stranger to his family, who was then governor in upper 
Germany, as his successor. In about three months afterwards, 
having put himself into a violent passion with one Regulus, a 
senator, he was seized with a fever, of which he died, after a 
short reign of one year, four months, and nine days. 

He was the first. foreign emperor that reigned in Rome ; and-^ 
justly reputed a prince of great gen^osity and moderation. He 
is also celebrated for his wisdom, though with less reason ; the 
greatest instance he gave of it during his reign, having been 
m the choice of his successor. 

yj p Trajan's family was originally of Italy; but he 

* , ' himself was born at Seville, in Spain. On being 
A n *QQ informed of the death of Nerva, he prepdred to re- 
turn to Rome, from Germany, where he was gov- 
ernor; and one of the first lectures he received, upon his ar- 
rival, was from Plutarch, the philosopher; who had the honour 
of being his master, and is said to have written him a letter to 
the following purpose: '' Since your merits, and not your im- 
portunities, have advanced you to the empire, permit me to | 
congratulate your virtues, and my own good fovtune. If your 
future government prove answerable to your former worth, I 
shall be happy; but, if you become worse for power, yours will 
be the danger, and mine the ignominy of your conduct. The 
errors of the pupil will be charged upon the instructor. Seneca 
is reproached for the enormities of Nero ; and Socrates and 
Quintilian have not escaped censure, for the misconduct of their 
respective scholars ; but you have it in your power to make me 



196 HISTORY OF ROME. 

the most honoured of men, by continuing what you are. Pre- 
serve the command of your passions, and make virtue the scope 
of all your actions. If you follow these instructions, then will 
I glory in my having presumed to give them ; if you neglect 
»i what I offer, then will this letter be my testimony that you have 
T not erred through the counsel and authority of Plutarch." I 
have inserted this letter, whether genuine or not, because it 
seems to me well written,, and a striking picture of ths^t grea 
philosopher's manner of addressing that best of princes. 

This good monarcli^ri application to business, his moderation 
to his enemies, his modesty in exaltation, his liberality to the 
deserving, and his economy in his own expenses, have all been 
the subjects of panegyric, amongst his cotemporaries ; and 
they continue to be the admiration of posterity. 

Upon giving the praefect of the prcetorian bands the sword, 
according to custom,iie made use of this remarkable exp-ession: 
" Take this sword, and use it: if I have merit, for me; if other- 
wise, against me." After which, he added, that he who gave 
laws, was the first who was bound to observe them. 

The first war he w^as engaged in, after his coming to the 
throne, was w ith the Dacians ; who, during the reign of Domi- 
tian, had committed innumerable ravages upon the province? 
of the empire. He therefore raised a powerful army, and with 
great expedition marched into their barbarous countries; where 
he was vigorously opposed by Decebalus, the Dacian king, 
who, for a long time, withstood his boldest eflTorts. At length, 
however, this monarcji, being constrained to come to a general 
battle, and no longer able to protract the war, was routed, with 
great slaughter; though not without a severe loss to the con- 
querors. The Roman soldiers, upon this occasion, wantiijg 
linen to bind up their wounds, the emperor tore his own robes, 
to supply them. This victory compelled the enemy to sue for 
peace, which they obtained upon very disadvantageous terms ; 
their king coming into the Roman camp, and acknowledging 
himself a vassal of the Roman empire. 

Upon Trajan's return, after the usual triumphs and rejoicings 
upon such an occasion, were over, he was surprised with an 
account that the Dacians had renewed hostilities. Decebalus 
their king, was now, therefore, a second time adjudged an 
enemy to the Roman state, and Trajan invaded his dominions 
with an army equal to that with which he had before subdued 
him. But Decebalus, now grown more cautious by his former 
defeat, used every art to avoid coming to an engagement. He 



HISTORY OF ROME. 197 

also put various stratagems in practice, to distress his enemy ; 
and, at one time, Trajan himself was in danger of being killed, 
or taken. He also took Longinus, one of the Roman generals, 
prisoner; and threatened to kill him, in case Trajan refused to 
grant terms of peace. But the emperor repHed, that peace and 
war had not their dependence upon the safetj of one subject 
only; wherefore, Longinus, sometime afterwards, destroyed 
himself, by a voluntary death. The fate of this general seemed 
to give new vigour to Trajan's operations. In order that he 
might more easily invade the enemy's territories, at pleasure, 
he undertook a most stupendous work, which was no less than 
building a bridge across the Danube. This amazing structure, 
which was built over a deep, broad, and rapid river, consisted' 
of more than twenty arches, each one-hundred-and-fifty feet 
high, and a hundred-and-seventy broad. The ruins of this 
structure, which remain to this day, show modern architects 
how far they were surpassed by the ancients, both in the great- 
ness and boldness of their designs. Upon finishing this work, 
Trajan continued the war with great vigour, sharing with the 
meanest of his soldiers the fatigues of the campaign, and con- 
tinually encouraging them to their duty by his own example. By 
these means, notwithstanding the country was spacious and un- 
cultivated, and the inhabitants brave and hardy, he subdued the 
whole, and added the kingdom of Dacia, as a province, to tae 
Roman empire. Decebalus made some attempts to escaj^e ; 
but, being surrounded on every side, he at last slew himself, 
and his head was sent immediately to Rome, as an evid^rice 
of his misfortune. These successes seemed to advance the 
empire to a greater degree of splendour than it had hitherto 
acquired. Ambassadors came from the interior parts of L-idia, 
to congratulate Trajan on his sjj^ccess, and bespeak his friend- 
ship. Upon his return to RcSae, he entered the city in tri- 
umph ; and the rejoicings for his victories lasted one-hundred- 
and-twenty days. 

Having given peace and prosperity to the empire, he con- 
tinued his reign, loved, honoured, and almost adored, by his 
subjects. He adorned the city with public buildings ; he freed 
it from such men as lived by their vices; he entertained pei- 
sons of merit with the utmost familiarity, and so little feared his 
enemies, that he could scarcely be induced to suppose he had 
any. It would have been happy for this great prinpe's memory, 
if he had shown equal clemency to all his subjects; 'but, about 
the ninth year of his reign, he was persuaded to look upon the 



1 98 HISTORY OF ROME. 

TT c P"^ ^^ death, as well by popular tumults, as by 

ftfio ' edicts and judicial proceedings. However, the 

A "n 1 07 ^"^P^''^'*> having advice from Pliny, the proconsul 

' in Bithynia, of the innocence and simplicity of the 

Christians, and of their inoffensive and moral way of living, 

suspended their punishments. 

In this emperor's reign, there was a dreadful insurrection of 
the Jews, in all parts of the empire. This wretched people, 
still infatuated, and always expecting some signal deliverance, 
took the advantage of Trajan's absence in the East, in an ex*^ 
pedition he had undertaken against the Armenians and Pkr-^ 
thians, to massacre all the Greeks and Romans whom they got 
into their power, without reluctance or mercy. This rebellion 
first began in Cyrene, a Roman province in Africa; thence, 
the flames extended to Egypt; and next, to the island of Cy- 
prus. These places, they in a manner depopulated, with un- 
governable fury. Their barbarities were so enormous, that 
they eat the flesh of their enemies, wore their skins, sawed them 
asunder, cast them to wild beasts, made them kill each other, 
and studied new torments by which to destroy them. How- 
ever, these cruelties were not of long duration ; the governors 
of the respective provinces, making head against their tumultu- 
ous fury, soon treated them with a retaliation of severity, and 
put them to death, not as human beings, but as outrageous 
pests to society. As the Jews haci practised these cruelties 
in Cyprus particularly, a law was publicly enacted, by which it 
was made capital for any Jew to set foot on the island. 

During tkjse bloody transactions, Trajan was prosecuting 
his successes in the East, where he carried the Roman arms 
farther than they had ever been before ; but, resolving to re- 
turn once more to Rome, he found himself too weak to pro- 
ceed in his usual manner. He\herefore ordered that he should 
be carried on shipboard, to the city of Seleucia, where he died 

. -p. of the apoplexy, by which he had been attacked once 
' ,y * before, in the sixty-third year of his age,^fte,r a reign 
of nineteen years, six months and fifteen day?. 

Adrian, (properly Adrianus,) who was nephew to Trajan, 
was adopted to succeed in the empire, and elected by all orders 
of the state, though absent from Rome ; being then at Antioch, 
as general of the forces in the East. 

Upon yB*&ection, he began to pursue a course quite opposite 
to that of bis predecessor ; taking every method of declining 
war, and promoting the arts of peace. He was quite satisfied 



HISTORY OF ROME. 199 

with preserving the ancient hmits of the empire, and seemed 
no way ambitious of extensive conquests. 

Adrian was one of the most remarkable of the Roman em- 
perors, for the variety of his endowments. He was highly 
skilful in all the accomplishments, both of body and mind: he 
composed with great beauty, both in prose and verse; he 
pleaded at the bar, an^ was one of the best orators of his time. 
Nor were his moral virtues inferior to his accomplishments. 
His moderation and clemency appeared by pardoning the in- 
juries which he had received when he was yet only a private 
man. One day, meeting a person who had formerly been his 
most inveterate enemy, " My good friend," cried he, '* you 
have escaped, for I am made emperor." He was affable to 
his friends, and gentle to those of inferior stations : he relieved 
their wants, and visited them in sickness ; it being his constant 
maxim, that he was an emperor, not elected for his own good, 
but for the benefit of mankind. 

These were his virtues, which were contrasted by a strange 
mixture of vices ; or, to say the truth, he wanted strength of 
mind, to preserve his general rectitude of character without 
deviation. 

He was scarcely settled on the throne, when several of the 
northern barbarians, the Alani, the Sarmatians, and the Dacians, 
began to make incursions into the empire. These hardy na- 
tions, who now found the way to conquer, by issuing from their 
forests, and then retiring on the approach of a superior force, 
began to be truly formidable to Rome. Adrian proposed to 
contract the limits of the empi^ej^by giving up some of the 
most remote and least defensible provinces ; but m this he was 
over-ruled by his friends, who erroneously imagined, that an 
extensive frontier would intimida^ an invading enemy. But 
though he compUed with fheir Remonstrances, he broke down 
the bridge over the Danube,' which his predecessor had built; 
sensible that the same passage which was open to him, was 
equally convenient to the incursions of his barbarous neigh- 
bours. 

Having remained a short time at Rome, to see that all things 
were regulated and estabhshed for the safety of the ^ubhc, he 
prepared to visit and take a view" of his whole empire. It was 
one of his maxims, that an emperor ought to imitate the sun, 
which diffuses warmth and vigour over all parts of the earth. 
He therefore took with him a splendid court, and a considerable 
force, and entered the province of Gaul ; where he numbered 
all the inhabitants- From Gaul, he went to Germany, thence 



200 HISTORY OF ROME. 

to Holland, and then passed over to Britain; where he reform- 
ed many abuses, and reconciled the natives to the Romans. 
For the better security of the southern parts of the kingdom, 
he built a wall, of wood and earth, extending from the river 
Eden, in Cumberland, to the Tyne, in Northumberland, to pre- 
vent the incursions of the Picts and other barbarous nations of 
the north. From Britain, returning through Gaul, he directed 
his journey to Spain, where he was received with great joy; 
being a native of that country. Residing in the city of Tarra- 
gona, during the winter, he called a meeting of the deputies 
from all the provinces, and ordained many things for the benefit 
I ^ of the nation. From Spain, having returned to Rome, he con- 
tinued there for some time, in order to prepare for his journey 
into the East ; which was hastened by a new invasion of the 
Parthians. His approach compelHng the enemy to peace, he 
pursued his travels, without molestation. Having arrived in 
Asia Minor, he turned out of his way, to visit the famous city 
of Athens. There, making a considerable stay, he was ini- 
tiated into the Eleusinian mysteries, which v ere accounted the 
most sacred in the Pagan mythology ; and took upon him the 
office of archon, or chief magistrate of the place. In this city, 
also, he remitted the severity of the Christian persecution, at 
the request of Granianus, the proconsul of Asia, who repre- 
sented the people of that persuasion as no way culpable. He 
was even so far reconciled to them, as to think of receiving 
Christ amongst the number of the gods. After a winter's con- 
tinuance in Athens, he went over into Sicily, and visited ^tna 
and the other curiosities o^^ country. Then, returning to 
Rome, after a short stay, he prepared ships, and crossed over 
into Africa. Here, he spent much time, in regulating abuses, 
and reforming the government; in deciding controversies, and 
erecting magnificent buildingih^ Aijaongst the rest, he ordered 
Carthage to be rebuilt; cailing'rt jffter his own name, Adriano- 
polis. Again, having returned to Rome, where he made very 
little delay, he travelled a second time into Greece, passed 
over into Asia Minor, thence went into Syria, and gave laws 
and instructions to all the neighbouring kings; whom he in- 
vited to CQme and consult with him: he then entered Palestine, 
Arabia, and Egypt, where he caused Pompey's tomb, which 
had been long neglected, and almost covered with sand, to be 
renewed and beautified. He also gave orders for the rebuild* 
ing of Jerusalem; which was performed with great expedition, 
by the assistance of the Jews, who now began to conceive 
hopes of being restored to their long lost kingdom. But these 



HISTORY OF ROME. 201 

expectations served only to aggravate their calamities. Being 
incensed at the privileges granted the Pagan worshipers in 
their new city, they fell upon the Romans and Christians dis- 
persed throughout Judea, and unmercifully put them all to the 
sword. Adrian was at Athens, when this dangerous insurrec- 
tion began ; wherefore, sending against them a powerful body 
of men, under the command of JuUus Severus, this general ob- 
tained nmny signal victories over the insurgents. This war 
was concluded in two years, by the demolition of above a thou- 
sand of their best towns, and the destruction of nearly six-hun- 
dred-thousand men in battle. 

He then banished from Judea all those who remained ; and, 
by a public decree, forbade any to come within view of their 
native soil. This insurrection was soon afterwards followed 
by a dangerous irruption of the barbarous nations to the north- 
ward of the empire ; who, entering Media with great fury, and 
passing through Armenia, carried their devastations as far as 
Cappadocia. Adrian, preferring peace, upon any terms, to an 
unprofitable war, bought them off by large sums of money ; so 
that they returned peaceably into their native wilds, to enjoy 
their plunder, and meditate fresh invasions. 

Having spent thirteen years, in travelling through his do- 
minions, and reforming the abuses of the empire, he at last re- 
solved to return, and end all his fatigues at Rome. Nothing 
could be more grateful to the people, than his resolution of 
coming to reside during the rest of his days, amongst them ; 
they received him with the loudest demonstrations of joy; and, 
though he now began to grow old and unwieldy, he remitted 
not the least of his former assiduity and application to the public 
welfare. His chief amusement was in conversing with the 
most celebrated men in ev6ry art and science : he frequently 
boasted, that he thought no kind of knowledge inconsiderable, 
or to be neglected, either in his private or public capacity. 
Adrian was so fond of literary fame, that we are told, he wrote 
his own life, and afterwards gave it to his servants to publish. 
But, whatever might have been his weakness, in aiming at uni- 
versal reputation, he was in no part of his reign remiss in at- 
tending to the duties of his exalted station. He ordered the 
knights and senators never to appear in public, unless in the 
proper habits of their respective orders. He forbade masters 
to kill their slaves, as had been before allowed ; but ordained 
that they should be tried by laws enacted against capital of- 
fences. A law, so just, had he done nothing more, deserved 



202 HISTORY OF ROME. 

to ensure his reputation with posterity, and to have made hiii 
dear to mankind. 

He still further extended the lenity of the laws to those un- 
happy men, who had been long thought too mean for justice : 
if a master was found killed in his house, he would not aUow 
all his slaves to be put to the torture, as formerly, but only 
those who might have perceived or prevented the murder. 

In such employments, he consumed the greater part of his 
time; but at last, finding the duties of his station daily in- 
creasing, and his own strength proportionally on the decline, 
he resolved upon adopting a successor. Antoninus, afterwards 
surnamed the Pious, was the person he considered the most 
worthy ; but he previously obliged him to adopt two others ; 
namely, Marcus Aurelius, and Lucius Verus ; all of whom af- 
terwards succeeded to the empire. 

Whilst he was thus careful in appointing a successor, his 
bodily infirmities became so insupportable, that he vehemently 
desired some of his attendants would despatch him. Antoninus, 
however, would by no means permit any of his domestics to 
be guilty of so great impiety; but used all the arts in his powei 
to reconcile the emperor to sustain life. His pains increasing 
every day, he was frequently heard to cry out: " How misera- 
ble a thing it is, to seek death, and not to find it!'' In this 
deplorable exigence, he resolved on going to Baise, where the 
tortures of his disease increasing, they aflTected his understand- 
ing. Continuing for some time in these excruciating circum- 
stances, he was at last determined not to observe any regimen ; 
often saying, that kings died merely by the number of theii 
physicians. This conduct served to hasten that death which 
he seemed so ardently to desire; and it was probably joy upon 
its approach, which dictated the celebrated stanzas that are 
so well known, and in repeating which he expired, in the sixty- 
second year of his age, after a prosperous reign of twenty-one 
years and eleven months. 

jj p Antoninus, his successor, was born in the city 

e* * of Nismes, in Gaul. His father was a nobleman 
A T) 1S8 ^^ an ancient family, which had enjoyed the high- 
* est honours of the state. At the time of his 
succeeding to the throne, he was about fifty years old; and 
had passed through many of the most important offices of the 
state, with great integrity and application. His-Jvirtues in pri- 
vate life were no way impaired by exaltation ; as he showed 
himself one of the most excellent princes, for justice, clemencv. 




HISTORY OF ROxME. 203 

and moderation. He morals were so pure, that he was usually 
compared to Numa; and was surnamed the Pious, both for his 
tenderness to his predecessor Adrian, when dying, and his par- 
ticular attachment to the religion of his country. 

He was an eminent rewarder of learned men, to whom he 
gave large pensions and great honours ; drawing them from all 
parts of the world.. Amongst the rest, he ^e<t for ApoUonius, 
the famous stoic philosopher, to instruct his adopted son, 
Marcus Aurelius, whom he had previously married to his 
daughter. ApoUonius having arrived at Rome, the emperor 
desired his attendance ; but the other arrogantly answered, that 
it was the scholar's duty to wait upon the master, and not the 
master's upon the scholar. To this reply, Antoninus only re- 
turned, with a smile, " That it was surprising how ApoUonius, 
who made no difficulty of coming from Greece to Rome, should 
think it so hard to walk from one part of Rome to another;" 
and immediately sent Marcus Aurelius to him. Whilst the 
good emperor was thus employed in making mankind happy, 
in directing their conduct by his own example, or reproving 
their follies by the keenness of rebuke, he was seized with a 
violent fever at Lorium, a pleasure-house at some distance 
from Rome ; where, finding himself sensibly decaying, he or- 
dered his friends and principal officers to attend him. In their 
presence, he confirmed the adoption of Marcus Aurelius, with- 
out once naming Lucius Verus, who had been joined by Adrian 
with him in the succession; then, commanding the golden 
statue of Fortune, which was always in the chambe-r of the em- 
perors, to be removed to that of his successor, he expired, in 
the seventy-fifth year of his age, after a prosperous reign of 
nearly twenty-two years and eight months. 
TT r Q14 Marcus Aurelius, though left sole successor to 
** Ti* ifii* the throne, took Lucius Verus as his associate 
* and equal in governing the state. Aurelius was 
the son of Annius Yerus, of an ancient and illustrious family, 
which claimed its origin from Numa. Lucius Yerus was the 
son of Commodus, who had been adopted by Adrian, but died 
before he succeeded to the throne. Aurelius was as remark- 
able for his virtues and accomplishments, as his partner in the 
empire for his ungovernable passions and debauched morals. 
The one was an example of the greatest goodness and wisdom ; 
the other, orf ignorance, sloth, and extravagance. 

The two emperors had scarcely been settled on the throne, 
when the empire seemed attacked on every side, by the bar 
barous nations with which it was surrounded. The Catti in- 



204 HISTORY OF ROME 

varied Germany and Rhetia, ravaging all with fire and sword ; 
but were, after some time, repelled by Victorinus. The Britains 
likewise revolted, but were repressed by Califurnius. But the 
Parthians, under their king Vologeses, made an irruption still 
more dreadful than either of the former: destroying the Roman 
legions in Armenia, then entering Syria, and driving out the 
Roman governor, they filled the whole country with terror and 
confusion. In order to stop the progress of this barbarous in- 
road, Verus himself went in person; being accompanied, part 
of the way, by Aurelius. 

Yerus, upon entering Antioch, gave an indulgence to every 
appetite, without attending to the fatigues of war; rioting in 
excesses, unknown even to the voluptuous Greeks, and leaving 
all the glory of the field to his lieutenants, who were sent to 
repress the enemy. These, however, fought with great suc- 
cess; Statins Priscus took Artazata; Martins put Yologeses 
to flight, took Seleucia, plundered and burned Babylon and 
Ctesiphon, and demolished the magnificent palace of the kings 
of Parthia. In the course of four years, during which the war 
continued, the Romans entered far into the Parthian country, 
and entirely subdued it ; but, upon their return, their army w^as 
wasted to less than half its former number, by pestilence and 
famine. However, this was no impediment to the vanity of 
Yerus, who resolved to enjoy the honours of a triumph, so 
hardly earned by others. Wherefore, having appointed a king 
over the Armenians, and finding the Parthians entirely subdued, 
he assumed the titles of Armenicus and Parthicus, and returned 
\o Rome, to partake of a triumph with Aurelius; which was 
accordingly solemnized, with great pomp and splendour. 

During the course of this expedition, which continued for 
some years, Aurelius was sedulousl^v intent upon distributing 
justice and happiness to his subjects at home. He first ap- 
plied himself to the regulation of public affairs, and to the cor- 
recting of such faults as he found in the laws and policy of the 
state. In this endeavour, he showed a singular respect for the 
senate, often permitting them to determine without appeal; so 
that the commonwealth seemed in a manner once more revived 
under his equitable administration. Besides, so great was his 
application to business, that he often employed ten days to- - j 
gether upon the same subject; maturely considering it on all 
sides, and seldom departing from the senate-house till night, 
when the assembly was dismissed by the consul. But, whilst 
thus gloriously employed, he was daily mortified with accounts 
of the enormities of his colleague ; being repeatedly assured 



HISTORY OF ROME. 205 

of his vanity, lewdness, and extravagance. However, feigning 
himself ignorant of these excesses, he judged marriage to be 
the best method of reclaiming him ; and therefore sent him his 
daughter Lucilla, a woman of great beauty, whom Yerus mar- 
ried at Antioch. But even this was found ineftectual : Lucilla 
proved of a disposition very unlike her father; and, instead of 
correcting her husband's extravagancies, only contributed to 
inflame them. Yet Aurelius still hoped that upon the return 
of Yerus to Rome, his presence would keep him in awe, and 
that happiness would at length be restored to the state. But 
in this, also, he was disappointed. His return only seemed 
fatal to the empire ; for his army carried back the plague irora 
Parthia, and disseminated the infection in all the provinces 
through which it passed. 

Nothing could exceed the miserable state of the empire, 
shortly after the return of Yerus. In this horrid picture, were 
represented, an emperor, unawed by example, or the calamities 
surrounding him, giving way to unprecedented debaucheries:. 
a raging pestilence spreading terror and desolation, through all 
parts of the western world ; earthquakes, famines, and inunda- 
tions, such as had never before happened ; the products of the 
earth, throughout all Italy, devoured by locusts; all the bar- 
barous nations surrounding the empire — the Germans, the 
Sarmatians, the Quadi, and Marcomanni, taking advantage of 
its various calamities, and making their irruptions even into 
Italy itself: the priests doing all they could to put a stop to the 
miseries of the state, by attempting to appease the gods; 
vowing and offering innumerable sacrifices; celebrating all the 
sacred rites that had ever been known in Rome ; and exhibit- 
ing the solemnity called Lectisternia, seven days together. 
To crown the whole, these enthusiasts, not satisfied with the 
impending calamities, making new, by ascribing the distresses 
of the state to the impiety of the Christians alone ; so that a 
violent persecution was seen reigning in all parts of the empire ; 
in which Justin Martyr, St. Poiycarp, bishop of Smyrna, and an 
infinite number of others, suflTered martyrdom. 

In this scene of universal tumult, desolation, and dicitress, 
there was nothing left but the virtues and the wisdom of one 
man alone, to restore tranquillity, and bring back happiness to 
the empire. Aurelius began his endeavours by marching 
against the Marcomanni and Quadi, taking Yerus with him ; 
who reluctantly left the sensual delights of Rome, for ti.e 
fatigues of a camp. They came up with the Marcomanni, 
near the city of Acquileia, and, after a furious engagement, 

S 



206 HISTORY OF ROME. 



pa» I 



routed their whole army : then, pursuing them across the Alpg, 

they overcame them in several contests, and at last, entirely 

TJ C 922 ^^^^^^^"g them, returned into Italy, without any 

a' d' IfiQ* considerable loss. As the winter was far advanced, 

' Verus determined upon going from Aquileia to 

Rome; in which journey, he was seized with an apoplexy, 

which put an end to his life: being thirty-nine years old; having 

reigned, in conjunction with Aurelius, nine. 

Aurelius, who had hitherto sustained the fatigues of govern- 
ing not only an empire, but his colleague, being left to him- 
self, began to act with greater diligence and more vigour than 
ever. 

After having subdued the Marcomanni, a barbarous people 
who had made inroads upon the empire, he returned to Rome; 
where he continued his endeavours to benefit mankind, by a 
further reformation of the internal policy of the state. 

But his exertions were soon interrupted, by a renewal of the 
former wars. In one of the engagements, he is said to have 
been miraculously relieved, when his army was perishing with 
thirsi, by the prayers of a Christian legion, which had been 
levied in his service. At that dreadful juncture, and just as 
the barbarians were ready to attack them, we are assured, that 
there fell so heavy a shower of rain, as instantly refreshed the 
fainting army. The soldiers were seen holding their mouths 
and their helmets towards heaven, and receiving the water 
which came so wonderfully to their relief. The clouds which 
served for their rescue, at the same time discharged so tre- 
mendous a storm of hail, accompanied with thunder, against 
the enemy, as to astonish and confound them ; by which unex- 
pected aid, the Romans recovering strength and courage, once 
more turned upon their pursuers, and cut thetn in pieces. 

Those are the circumstances of an engagement, acknow- 
ledged by Pagan, as well as Christian writers ; only with this 
difference, that the latter ascribed the victory to their own, the 
former to the prayers of their emperor. However, Aurelius 
seemed so sensible of miraculous aid, that he immediately re- 
laxed the persecution against the Christians, and wrote to the 
senate in favour of their religion. 

This good emperor, having detected one Avidius in a con- 
spiracy against him, and generously granted him his pardon, 
some who were near his person, took the liberty to blame his 
conduct; telling him that Avidius would not have been so 
generous, had he been emperor; to which, Aurelius replied, in 
this sublime manner: '^I never served the gods so ill, o) 



HISTORY OF ROME. 207 

reigned so irregularly, as to fear that Avidius could ever be con- 
queror." He usually called philosophy his mother, in oppo- 
sition to the court, which he considered as his step-mother. 
He was also frequently heard to say: that "the people were 
happy, whose philosophers were kings, or whose kings were 
philosophers." He, in fact, was one of the most considerabla 
men then in being ; and though he had been born in the meanest 
station, his literary merits, as his works remain to this d^y, 
would have insured him immortality. 

Having restored prosperity to his subjects, and peace to man- 
kind, news was brought him, Ihat the Scythians, a barbarous 
nation of the north, were up in arms, and invading the empire. 
He once more, therefore, resolved to expose his aged person 
in defence of his country, and made speedy preparations to op- 
pose them. He went to the senate, for the first time, and de- 
sired to have money out of the public treasury. He then 
spent three whole days in giving the people lectures, by which 
they might regulate their lives ; and, having finished them, de- 
parted apon his expedition, followed by the prayers and la- 
mentations of all his subjects. Upon going to open his third 
campaign, he was seized with the plague at Vienna; which 
stopped the progress of his success. Nothing, however, could 
abate his desire of being useful to mankind: his fears for the 
youth and unpromising disposition of Commodus, his son and 
successor, seemed to give him great uneasiness: wherefore, 
he addressed his friends and principal officers that were gather- 
ed round his bed, telling them, that as his son was now going to 
lose a father, he hoped he should find many fathers in them. 
As he was thus speaking, he was seized with a weakness, 
which stopped his utterance, and brought him to his end the . 
day following. He died in the fifty-ninth year of his age, hav 
ing reigned nineteen years, and some days ; and it seemed as 
if the whole glory and prosperity of the Roman empire died 
with this greatest of the Roman emperors. 



20S HISTORY OF ROME. 



CHAPTER XXIT. 

From Commodus, to the transferring of the seat of empire under ] 
Constantine, from Rome to Byzantium, 

TT r q^^ The merits of Aurelius procured Commodus 
\' vi ifto* ^^ ^^^y ^cc^ssion to the throne. He was ac- 
' knowledged emperor, first by the army, then by 
the senate and people, and shortly afterwards by all the prov- 
inces. 

His whole reign is but a tissue of wantonness and folly, 
cruelty and injustice, rapacity and corruption. There is so 
strong a similitude between his conduct and that of Domitian, 
that a reader might imagine he was going over the same reign. 

He went with his associates to taverns and brothels, spent 
the day in feasting, and the night in the most abominable lux- 
uries. He sometimes went about the markets in a frolic, with 
small wares, as a petty chapman; sometimes, he imitated a 
horse-courser; and at other times, drove his own chariot, in a 
slave's habit; while those he promoted, chiefly resembled him- 
self; being the companions of his pleasures, and the ministers 
of his cruelty. 

If any person desired to be revenged on an enemy, by bar- 
gaining with Commodus for a sum of money, he was permitted 
to destroy him, in any manner that he chose. He commanded 
a person to be cast to the wild beasts, for reading the hfe of 
Caligula, in Suetonius; and ordered another to be thrown into 
a burning furnace, for accidentally over-heating his bath. He 
would sometimes, when he was in a good humour, cut off men's 
noses, under a pretence of shaving their beards ; and yet he 
was himself so jealous of all mankind, that he was obliged to 
be his own barber. 

At length, at the feast of Janus, resolving to fence naked 
before the people, as a common gladiator, three of his friends 
ren^onstrated with him, upon the indecency of such behaviour. 
These were Lsetus, his general, Electus, his chamberlain, and 
Marcia, a concubine, of whom he always appeared remarkably 
fofid. Their advice was attended with no other effect than that • » 
of incensing him against them, and inciting him to resolve || 
upon their destruction. It was his method, like that of Domi- 
tian, to set down the names of all those whom he intended to 
put to death, in a roll, which he carefully kept by him. How- 
ever, at this time, happeniqg to lay the roll on his bedj whilst I 



■J! 



HISTORY OF ROME. 20*J 

he was bathing in another room, it was taken up by a little 
boy, whom he passionately loved. The child, after playing 
with it for some time, brought it to Marcia, who was instantly 
alarmed at the contents. She immedia' ly discovered her ter- 
rors to Laetus and Electus; who, perceiving their dangerous 
situation, instantly determined on the tyrant's death. It was 
agreed on, to despatch him by poison ; but this not succeeding, 
Marcia hastily introduced a young man, called Narcissus, and 
prevailed upon him to assist in strangling the tyrant. Com- 
TT r Qd^ modus died in the thirty-first year of his age, 
A ' Tfc* 1 go' Slater an impious reign of twelve years and nine 
months. 

He was assassinated with so great secrecy and expedition, 
that few were at that time acquainted with the real , circum- 
stances of his death. His body was wrapped up as a bale of 
useless furniture, and carried through the guards; most of 
whom were either drunk or asleep. '»^^ 

Previous to the assassination, the conspirators had fixed 
upon a successor. Helvius Pertinax, whose virtues and cou- 
rage rendered him worthy of tlie most exalted station, and who 
had passed through many changes of fortune, was appointed to 
succeed him : when, therefore, the conspirators repaired to his 
house, to salute him emperor, he considered their arrival as a 
signal from the emperor Commodus for his death. Upon Lsetus 
entering his apartment, Pertinax, without any show of fear, 
cried out, that for many days he had expected to end his life 
in that manner, and wondered that the emperor had deferred it 
so long. However, he was not a little surprised, when in- 
formed of the real cause of their visit ; and, being strongly 
urged to accept of the empire, he, at last, complied with their 
offer. 

Being carried to the camp, Pertinax was proclaimed emperor, 
and soon afterwards, the citizens and senate consented ; their 
joy at the election of their new sovereign being scarcely equal 
to that for the death of their tyrant. 

They then pronounced Commodus a parricide; an enemy to 
the gods, his country, and all mankind, and commanded, that 
his body should rot upon a dunghill. In the mean time, they 
saluted Pertinax as emperor and csesar, and cheerfully took 
the oath of obedience. The provinces soon afler followed the 
example of Rome ; so that he began his reign with satisfaction 
to the whole empire, in the sixty-eighth year of his age. 

Nothing could exceed the justice and wisdom of this mon- 
arch's reign, during the short time it contmued. But the pr«- 

S 2 



210 HISTORY OF ROME. 

torian soldiers, whose manners he had attempted to reform^ 
having been long corrupted by the indulgence and profusion 
of their former monarch, began to hate him, for the parsimony 
and discipUne he had introduced amongst them. They there- 
fore resolved to dethrone him ; and accordingly, in a tumultuous 
manner, marched through the streets of Rome, entered his 
palace without opposition, where a Tungrian soldier struck him 
dead, with a blow of his lance. From the number of his ad- 
ventures, he was called the tennis-ball of fortune ; and cer 
tainly no man ever experienced so great a variety of situations, 
with so blameless a character. — He reigned only three months. 
TT r Q4.^ '^^^ soldiers having committed this outrage, 
A * d' 1 Q9* ^^^^ proclamation, that they would sell the em- 
* pire to whomsoever would purchase it, at the high- 
est price. In consequence of this proclamation, two bidders 
were found; nan ely, Sulpician and Didius; the former, a con- 
sular person, prsefect of the city, and son-in-law of the late 
emperor Pertinax ; the latter of consular rank, also, a great 
lawyer, and the richest man in the city. Sulpician had promises, 
rather than treasure, to bestow. The offers of Didius, who 
produced immense sums of ready money, prevailed. He was 
received into the camp, and the soldiers instantly swore to 
obey him as emperor. 

Upon being conducted to the senate-house, he addressed the 
few members who were present, in a very laconic speech: 
'^ Fathers, you want an emperor, and I am the fittest person 
you can choose." The election of the soldiers was confirmed 
by the senate, and Didius was acknowledged emperor, now in 
the fifty-seventh year of his age. 

It appears by this weak monarch's conduct, when seated on 
the throne, that he thought the government of an empire 
rather a pleasure than a toil. Instead of attempting to gain 
the hearts of his subjects, he gave himself up to ease and inac- 
tivity, utterly regardless of the duties of his station. He was 
mild and gentle, indeed, neither injuring any, nor expecting to 
be injured. But that avarice, by which he became opulent, 
still followed him in his exaltation; so that the very soldiers 
who elected him, soon began to detest him for those quahties, 
so very opposite to a military character. The people, also, 
against whose consent he had been chosen, were not less his 
enemies. Whenever he issued from his palace, they openly 
poured forth their imprecations ; crying out, that he was a thief, 
and had stolen the empire. Didius, however, in the true spirit 
of a trader, patiently bore all their indignities; sometimes 



HISTORY OF ROME. 211 

beckoning them to approach him, and testifying his regard hj 
every kind of submission. 

Soon afterwards, Severus, an African by birth, being pro- 
claimed by the army, began by promising to revenge the death 
of Pertinax. 

Didius, on being informed of his advance towards Rome, ob- 
tained leave from the senate to send him ambassadors, offering 
to make him a partner in the empire. But Severus rejected 
this overture; conscious of his own strength, and of the weak- 
s of the proposer. The senate appeared of the same opinion, 
ariSTperceiving the timidity and weakness of their present master, 
abandoned him. Being called together, as was formerly prac- 
tised in the times of the commonwealth, by the consuls, they 
unanimously agreed, that Didius should be deprived of the em- 
pire, and that Severus should be proclaimed, in his stead 
They commanded Didius to be slain, and sent messengers for 
this purpose to the palace ; where they found him disarmed, 
and despatched him, amongst a few friends who still adhered to 
his interest. 

Severus having overcome Niger and xllbinus, his competitors 
for the empire, next undertook the reins of government ; uniting- 
great vigour with the most refined policy : yet his African cun- 
ning, (for he was a native of Africa,) was considered as a par- 
ticular fault. He is celebrated for his wit, learning, and pru- 
dence ; but equally blamed for perfidy and cruelty. In short, 
he seemed capable of the greatest acts of virtue, and the most 
bloody severities. 

Upon his return to Rome, he loaded his soldiers with re- 
wards and honours ; giving them such privileges as strengthen- 
ed his own authority, while they destroyed that of the state. 
The soldiers, who had hitherto showed the strongest inclina- 
tions to an abuse of power, were now made arbiters of the fate 
of emperors. 

Being thus secure of his army, he resolved to indulge his 
natural turn for conquest, and to oppose his arms against the 
Parthians, who were then invading the frontiers of the empire. 
Having, therefore, previously given the government of domestic 
policy, to one Plautian, a particular favourite, to whose daughter 
he married his son Caracalla, he . set out for the East, and 
prosecuted the war with his usual expedition and success. He 
forced submission from the king of Armenia, destroyed several 
cities in Arabia Felix, landed on the Parthian coasts, took and 
plundered the famous city of Ctesiphon, marched back through 



212 HISTORY OF ROME. 

Palestine and Egypt, and at length returned to Rome in tri 
umph. 

During this interval, Plautian, who was left to direct the af 
fairs of Rome, began himself to think of aspiring to the em 
pire. Upon the emperor's return, he employed a tribune ot 
the praetorian cohorts, of which he was commander, to assassi- 
nate him and his son Caracalla. The tribune informed Severus 
of Plautian's treachery. He at first received it as an improba- 
ble story, and as the artifice of one who envied his favourite's 
fortune. However, he was at last persuaded to permit the tri- 
bune to conduct Plautian to the emperor's apartments, to be 
a testimony against himself. With this intention, the tribune 
went and amused him with a pretended account of his killing 
the emperor and his son ; desiring him, if he thought fit to see 
them dead, to go with him to the palace. As Plautian ardently 
desired their deaths, he readily gave credit to his relation; and 
following the tribune, was conducted at midnight, into the in- 
nermost recesses. But what must have been his disappoint- 
ment, when, instead of finding the emperor lying dead, as he 
expected, he beheld the room lighted with torches, and Severus, 
surrounded by his friends, prepared in array to receive him! 
Being asked by the emperor, with a stern countenance, what 
brought him there, at that unseasonable time, he was at first 
utterly confounded; and, not knowing what excuse to make, he 
ingenuously confessed the whole, intreating forgiveness for what 
he had intended. The emperor seemed inchned to pardon ; 
but Caracalla, who, from the earliest age, showed a disposition 
to cruelty, ran him through the body, with his sword. 

After this, he spent some time in visiting some of the cities 
in Italy ; permitting none of his oflScers to sell the places of 
trust and dignity, and distributing justice with the strictest im- 
partiality. He then undertook an expedition into Britain, 
where the Romans were in danger of being destroyed, or com- 
pelled to fly from the province. Wherefore, after appointing 
his two sons, Caracalla and Geta, joint successors in the em- 
pire, and taking them with him ; he landed in Britain, to the 
great terror of all those who had incurred his resentment. He 
stationed Geta in the southern part of the province, whioji had 
continued in obedience, and marched with Caracalla, against 
the Caledonians. In this expedition, his army suffered most 
severe hardships in pursuing the enemy : they were obliged to 
hew their way through intricate forests^^ to^ drain extensive 
marshes, and form bridges over rapid rivi^?f5 so that he lost 



HISTORY OF ROME. 213 

fifty-thousand men by fatigue and sickness. However, he 
supported all those inconveniences, with unrelenting bravery; 
and prosecuted his success with such vigour, that he compelled 
the enemy to beg for peace; which they obtained, not without 
a surrender of a considerable part of their country. It wag 
then, that for the better security of the province, he built that 
famous wall, which still retains his name ; extending from Sol- 
way Frith, on the west, to the German Ocean on the east. 

He did not long survive these victories, but died at York, in 
the sixty-sixth year of his age, after an active, though cruel 
reign of about eighteen years. 

TT r qfi4 Caracalla and Geta, being acknowledged em- 
A "n* 91 1 * P^'*o*'s> by the army, began to show a mutual hatred, 

* even before their arrival at Rome. But this op- 
position was of no long continuance ; for, Caracalla having re- 
solved to govern alone, furiously entered Geta's apartment; 
and, followed by ruffians, slew him in his mother's arms. 

Being thus sole emperor, he went on to mark his course with 
blood. .Whatever was done by Domitian or Nero, fell short 
of this monster's barbarities. His tyrannies, at length, excited 
the resentment of Iviacrmus, tlie commander of the forces tn 
Mesopotamia; who employed one Martial, a man of great 
strength, a centurion of the guards, to despatch him. Accord- 
ingly, as the emperor was riding out one day near a little city, 
called Carrse, he happened to withdraw himself privately from 
fhe road, with only one page to hold his horse. This was the 
opportunity Martial had so long and ardently desired ; where- 
fore, running to him hastily, as if he had been called, he stab- 
bed the emperor in the back, so that he died immediately. 
Having performed this hardy attempt, he then, unconcernedly, 
returned to his troop ; and, retiring by insensible degrees, en- 
deavoured to secure himself by flight. But his companions 
soon missing him, and the page giving information of what had 
been done, he was pursued by the German horse, and cut to 
pieces. 

During the reign of this execrable tyrant, which continued 
six years, the empire was gradually declining: the soldiers 
were entirely masters of every election ; and as there were va^ 
rious armies in different parts, so there were as many interests, 
all opposite to each other. 

TT r 070 ^^^ soldiers, without an emperor, after a sus- 
A * d' 917* V^^^^ of two days, fixed upon Macrinus, who took 

* all possible methods to conceal his being privy to 
Caracalla's murder. The senate, shortly afterwards confirmed 



214 



HISTORY OF ROME. 



1 1 




their choice, and likewise that of his son Diadumenus, whom he 
took as a partner in the empire. Macrinus was fifty-three 
years old when he ascended the imperial throne. He was of 
obscure parentage, some say by birth a Moor; and, by the 
mere rotation of office, having been made first praefect of the 
prgstorian bands, was now, by treason and accident, called to 
fill the throne. 

He was opposed by the intrigues of Moesa, and her grand- 
son, Heliogabalus, and being conquered by some seditious le 
gions of his own army, he fled to Chalcedon ; where those that 
were sent in pursuit, overtook and put him to death, together 
with his son Diadumenus, after a short reign of one year and 
two months. 

U r Q71 '^^^ senate and citizens of Rome being obliged 
A* D* 218* ^^ submit as usual to the appointment of the army, 
* Heliogabalus was declared emperor, at the age of 
fourteen. His short life is a tissue of effeminacy, lust, and 
extravagance. He married, in the small space of four years, 
six wives ; and divorced them all. He was so fond of the fe- 
male sex, that he carried his mother with him to the senate- 
hous«5, and demanded that she should always be present when 
matters of importance were debated. He even went so far as 
to build a senate-house for women, with suitable orders, habits 
and distinctions; of which, his mother was made president. 
They met several times ; but all their debates turned upon the 
fashions of the day, and the different formalities to be used at 
giving and receiving visits. To these follies, he added great 
cruelty, and boundless prodigality: he was heard to say, that 
such dishes as were cheaply obtained, were not worth eating. 
It is even said, he strove to foretel what was to happen, by m- 
specting the entrails of young men, sacrificed; and that he 
chose the most beautiful youths throughout Italy, to be slain 
for that horrid purpose. 

However, his soldiers having mutinied, as was now usual 
with them, they followed him lo his palace ; pursuing him from 
apartment to apartment, till at last he was found com^aled in 
a closet — Having dragged him thence through the streets, with 
the most bitter invectives, and having despatched him, they 
treated his pampered body with every indignity they could in- 
vent, and then threw it into the Tyber, with heavy weights, 
that none might afterwards find it, or give it burial. This was 
the ignominious death of Heliogabalus, in the eighteenth year 
of his age, after a detestable reign of four years. 



HISTORY OF ROME. 216 

TT r 07^ ^^ him, succeeded Alexander, his cousin-ger- 
A T) 922* "^^"' "whoy without opposition, being declared em- 
* peror, the senate, with their usual adulation, were 
for conferring new titles upon him ; but he modestly declined 
them all. To the most rigid justice, he added the greatest 
humanity. He loved the good, and was a severe reprover of 
the lewd and infamous. His acquirements were equal to his 
virtues : he was skilled in mathematics, geometry and music : 
he was equally accomplished in painting and sculpture, and, in 
poetry, few of his time could equal him; in short, such were 
his talents, and so mature was his judgment, that though but 
sixteen years of age, he was considered as a wise old man. 

About the thirteenth year of his reign, the upper Germans, 
and other northern nations, began to pour down immense 
swarms of people upon the more southern parts of the empire. 
They passed the Rhine and the Danube, with such fury, that 
all Italy was thrown into extreme consternation. The em- 
peror, always ready to expose his person, for the safety of his 
people, made what levies he could, and went to stem the toif- 
rent; which he speedily effected. It was in the course of his 
successes against the enemy, that he was cut off by a mutiny 
amongst his own soldiers. He died in the twenty-ninth year 
of his age, after a prosperous reign of thirteen years and nine 
days. 

TT r QS8 ^^^ tumults occasioned by the death of Alex- 
A* D* 9^^^* ander, being appeased, Maximinus, usually called 
' Maximin, who had been the chief promoter of the 
sedition, was chosen emperor. This extraordinary man, ^hose 
character deserves particular attention, was born of very ob- 
scure parentage ; being the son of a poor herdsman of Thrace. 
In his early years, he followed his father's humble profession, 
and exercised his personal courage only against the robbers 
who infested that part of the country, in which he Hved. How- 
ever, his ambition increasing, he left his poor employment, en- 
listed in the Roman army, and soon became remarkable for his 
great strength, discipline, and courage. This gigantic man 
was no less than eight feet and a half high ; he had a body and 
strength corresponding with his size, being no less remarkable 
for the magnitude, than the symmetry, of his person. His 
wife's bracelet usually served him for a thumb-ring; and his 
strength was so great, that he was able to draw a carriage 
which two oxen could not move. He could strike out a horse's 
teeth with a blow of his fist, and break his thigh with a kick. 
His appetite was as extraordinary as the rest ol his endow- 



i 



216 HISTORY OF ROME. 

ments : he generally eat forty pounds weight of flesh, every day, 
and drank six gallons of wine, without committing any debauch 
in either. With a frame so athletic, he possessed a mind un- 
daunted in danger, and neither fearing nor regarding any mai^* 
The first time he was made known, was to the emperor Seve- 
rus, who was then celebrating games on the birth-day of his 
Bon Geta. He outstripped sixteen in running, one after an- 
other: he then kept up with the emperor on horseback; and, 
having fatigued him in the course, was opposed to seven of the 
most active soldiers, and overcame them with the greatest ease. 
From that time, he was particularly noticed, and taken into the 
emperor's body guards, and, by the usual gradation of prefer- 
ment, came to be chief commander ; equally remarkable for 
his simplicity, discipline, and virtue : but, upon coming to the 
empne, he was found to be one of the greatest monsters of 
cruelty that ever disgraced power; and, fearful ot nothing him- 
eelf, he seemed to sport with the terrors of all mankind. 

However, his barbarities did not retard his military opera- 
tions, which were carried on with the greatest degree of vig- 
our. He overthrew the Germans in several battles, wasted all^— 
their country with fire and sword, for four-hundred miles to-^SH 
gether; and formed a resolution of subduing all the northern ^^ 
nations as far as the ocean. In these expeditions, in order to 
attach the soldiers more firmly to him, he increased their pay; 
and in every duty of the camp, he himself took as much pains 
as the lowest centinel in his army ; showing incredible courage 
and assiduity. In every engagement, wherever the conflict 
was hottest, Maximin was always seen combating there in per- 
son, an(3 destroying all before him : for, being bred a barbarian, 
he considered it a duty to fight as a common soldier, whilst he 
commanded as a general. 

His enormities had now so alienated the minds of his sub- 
jects, that several conspiracies were formed against him. 
None of them, however, succeeded, till at last, his own sol 
diers being harassed by famine and fatigue, and hearing of re*- 
volts on every side, resolved to terminate their calamities by 
the tyrant's death. His great strength, and his being always 
armed, were, at first, the principal reasons which deterred any 
from assassinating hhn ; but, at length, having made his guards 
accomplices in their design, they set upon him, whilst he slept 
at noon in his tent, and slew both him and his son, whom ho 
had made his partner in the empire. Thus died tiiis most re. 
maikable man, after an usurpation of about three years, in tho 
sixty-fifth yeai* of his age. His assiduity, when in humble 



HISTORY OF ROME. 217 

station, and his cruelty when in power, served very well to 
evince, that there are some men whose virtues are fitted for 
obscurity, as there are others, who only show themselves great, 
when placed in exalted stations. 

U C 991 '^^^ tyrant being dead, and his body thrown to 
A* T)* 2SS* dogs and birds of prey, Pupienus and Balbinus con- 

* tinned for some time emperors, without opposition. 
But, differing between themselves, the praetorian soldiers, 

who were the enemies of both, attacked them, when their guards 
were amused with seeing the capitoline games ; and, dragging 
them from the palace towards the camp, killed them both; 
leaving their dead bodies in the streets, as a dreadful instance 
of their sedition. 

In the midst of this tun\ult, as the mutineers were proceeding 
along, they accidentally met Gordianus, the grandson of him 
that was slain in Africa; whom they declared emperor, on the 
epot. This prince was but sixteen years old when he began 
to reign; but his virtues seemed to compensate for his want 
of experience. His principal aims were, to unite the opposing 
members of the government, and to reconcile the soldiers and 
citizens to each other. 

The army, however, began as usual to murmur; and ^heir 
complaints were artfully fomented by Philippus, an Arabian, 
who was praetorian prsefect. . Things then proceeding from bad 
to worse, Philip was at first made equal in the government of 
the empire ; shortly afterwards he was invested with the sole 
power, and, at length, having the means of perpetrating his 
long meditated cruelty, Gordian was, by his advice, slain, in 
the twenty-second year of his age, after a successful reign of 
nearly six years. 

TT r 996 Philip, having thus murdered his benefactor, 
A* T>* 94 V ^^^ immediately acknowledged emperor, by th« 

* army. Upon his exaltation, he associated his son, 
a boy of six years of age, as his partner in the empire ; and in 
order to secure his power at home, made peace with the Per- 
sians, and marched his army towards Rome. However, the 
army revolting in favour of Decius, his general, and setting 
violently upon him, one of the centinels,at one blow, clove his 
head asunder, separating, the under jaw from the upper. He 
died in the forty-fifth year of his age, after a reign of about five 
years ; Decius being universally received as his successor* 

TT r 1001 ^^® activity and wisdom of Decius seemed in 
A D 94ft ^^^^ measure to retard the hastening decline of 
A. U. 24«. ^j^^ Roman empire. The senate thought so highly 

T 



«18 



HISTORY OF ROJVrE. 



of his merits, that they voted him not inferior to Trajan ; and 
indeed he appeared in every instance to consult their dignity in 
particular, and the welfare of all inferior ranks of people. 

But no virtues could now prevent the approaching downfal 
of the state : the obstinate disputes between the Pagans and 
the Christians within the empire, and the unceasing irruptions 
of barbarous nations from without, enfeebled it beyond the 
power of remedy. Decius was killed, in an ambuscade of the 
enemy, in the fiftieth year of his age, after a short reign of two 
years and six months. 

TT r 1 004 Crallus, who had betrayed the Roman army, had 
A* T\ 9^1' address enough to get himself declared emperor, 

' by that part of it which survived the defeat. He 
was forty-five years old when he began to reign, and was de- 
scended from an honourable family in Rome. He was the 
first who bought a disgraceful peace from the enemies of the 
state ; as he agreed to pay a considerable annual tribute to the 
Goths, whom it was his duty to repel. He was regardless of 
every national calamity, and given to debauch and sensuality. 
The Pagans were allowed a power of persecuting the Chris- 
tians, through all parts of the state. These calamities were 
succeeded by a pestilence, which seemed to spread over every 
part of the earth, and continued raging for several years, in a 
manner hitherto unequalled ; and all these were followed by a 
civil war, between Gallus and his general -3Emihanus, who, 
having gained a victory over the Goths, was proclaimed em-^ 
peror, by his conquering army. Gallus, hearing this, soon roused 
from the intoxication of pleasure, and prepared to oppose his 
dangerous rival; but he and his son were killed by -3Emilianus, 
in a battle fought in Msesia. His death was merited, arid his 
vices were such as deserve the detestation of posterity. He 
died in the forty-seventh year of his age, after an unhappy reign 
of two years and four months ; in which, the empire suffered 
inexpressible calamities. 

U C 1006 '^^^ senate refused to acknowledge the claims 
A D 253* ^^ iEmilianus; and an army stationed near the 

' Alps, chose Yalerian, their own commander, to 
succeed to the throne ; who began the reformation of the state, 
with a spirit that seemed to mark a good mind and unabating 
vigour. But reformation was then almost impracticable. The 
Persians, under their king Sapor, invaded Syria ; and, coming 
into Mesopotamia, took the unfortunate Valerian prisoner, as 
he was making preparations to oppose them. Nothing can 
exceed the indignities, as well as the cruelties which were prac- 



HISTORY OF ROME. 2lb 

tised upon this unhappy monarch, thus fallen into the hancjs of 
his enemies. Sapor, we are told, always used him as a foot-^ 
stool for mounting his horse : he added the bitterness of ridi- 
cule to his insults, and usually observed, that, " an attitude 
like that to which Valerian was reduced, was the best statue 
that could be erected in honour of his victory." This horrid 
life of insult and sufferance continued for seven years; and 
was at length terminated, by the cruel Persian's commanding 
his prisoner's eyes to be plucked out, and afterwards causing 
him to be flayed alive. 
TT r 1012 When Valerian was taken prisoner, Gallienus, 

A* T) 259* ^^^ ^^^^' promising to revenge the insult, was 
' chosen emperor; being then about forty-one years 
old. However, it was soon discovered, that he sought rather 
the splendours, than the toils of empire. After having over- 
thrown Ingenus, a commander in Pannonia, who had assumed 
the title of emperor, he sat down, as if fatigued with conquest, 
and gave himself up to ease and luxury. 

It was at this time, that no less than thirty pretenders were 
disputing with each other for the dominion of the state, and 
adding the calamities of civil war to the rest of the misfortunes 
of this devoted empire. These are usually known in history 
by the name of the Thirty Tyrants. 

In this general calamity, Gallienus, though at first seemingly 
insensible, was at length obliged, for his own private security, 
to take the field, and lead an army to besiege the city of Milan, 
which had been captured by one of the thirty usurping tyrants. 
He was there killed by one of his own soldiers; Martian, one 
of his generals, having conspired against him. 
TT r 1091 Flavins Claudius being nominated to succeed, 

a' "n 9«<s' ^^ ^^^ j^y^'jl^y i*eceived by all orders of the state, 
* * and his title confirmed by the senate and the peo- 
ple. We are not sufficiently assured of this emperor's lineage 
and country. Some affirm he was born in Dalmatia, and de- 
scended from an ancient family there; others assert that he 
was a Trojan ; and others, still, that he was a son of the em- 
peror Gordian. But whatever might have been his descent, 
his merits were by no means doubtful. He was a man of great 
valour and ability, having performed most signal services 
against the Goths, who had long continued to make their ir- 
ruptions into the empire. But on his march against that bar- 
barous people, as he approached near the city of Sirmium, in 
Pannonia, he was seized with a pestilential fever, of which he 



220 HISTORY OF ROME. 

died in a few days ; to the great regret of his subjects, and the 
irreparable loss of the Roman empire. 

TT r 109*^ Upon the death of Claudius, Aurelianus was 
\ "n 970 unanimously acknowledged by all the states of the 

* empire, and assumed the command with a greater 
share of power than his predecessors had enjoyed for some 
time before. This active monarch was bom of mean and ob- 
scure parentage, in Dacia, and was about fifty-five years old 
at the time of his coming to the throne. He had spent the 
early part of his life in the army, and risen through all the gra- 
dations of military duty. He was of unshaken courage, and 
amazing strength : he killed, in one engagement, forty of the 
enemy, with his own hand ; and above nine-hundred at different 
times. In short, his valour and expedition were so conspicuous, 
that he was compared to Julius Csesar ; and in fact, only wanted 
mildness and clemency, to be every way his equal. Amongst 
the number of those who were compelled to submit to his 
power, we may reckon the famous Zenobia, queen of Palmyra. 
He subdued her country, destroyed her city, and took her 
prisoner. Longinus, the celebrated critic, who was secretary 
to the queen, was, by Aurelian's order, put to death. Zenobia 
was reserved to grace his triumph, and ait^rwards assigned 
lands and an income, which served to maintain her in almost 
her former splendour. 

His severities were at last the cause of his destruction : 
Mnestheus, his principal secretary, having been threatened by 
h'm, for some fault which he had committed, formed a con- 
spiracy against him ; and, as the emperor passed with a small 
guard from Uraclea, in Thrace, towards Byzantium, the con- 
spirators set upon him at once, and slew him ; meeting with 
very little resistance. He was killed in the sixtieth, or, as 
some say, the sixty-third year of his age, afler a very active 
reign of about five years. 

TT r 1098 Afler some time, the senate made choice of 
A* T) 275* "^^^^^"^J ^ ^^^ ^^ great merit, and no way am- 

* bitious of the honours that were offered him ; being 
at* that time seventy-five years old. 

A reign, begun with much moderation and justice, wanted 
only continuance, to have made the empire happy ; but after 
enjoying the government about six months, he died of a fever, 
in his march to oppose the Persians and Scythians, who had 
invaded the eastern part of the dominions. 

During this short period, the senate seemed to have a large 



HISTORY OF ROME. 221 

share of authority; and the historians of the times are uni- 
formly liberal of their praises, to those emperors who were 
thus wilUng to divide their power. 

Upon the death of Tacitus, the whole array, as if by com- 
mon consent, cried out that Probus should be emperor. He 
was forty-four years old, when he ascended the throne; was 
born of noble parents, at Sirmium, in Pannonia, and bred up a 
soldier, from his youth. He began early to distinguish him- 
self, for his discipline and valour; being frequently the first 
man that, in besieging towns, scaled the walls, or that burst 
into the enemy's camp. He was equally remarkable for single 
combats, and saved the lives of many eminent citizens. Nor 
were his activity and courage, when elected to the empire, less 
apparent than in his private station. Every year now produced 
only new calamities; and fresh irruptions, on every side, 
threatened universal desolation: perhaps at this time, no abili- 
ties except those of Probus, were capable of opposing these 
united invasions. However, in the end, his own mutinous 
soldiers, taking an opportunity, as he was marching into Greece, 
killed him, after he had reigned six years and four months, with 
general approbation. 

TT r 1 n.'^r Cams, who had been prsDtorian prsefect to the 
X T) 9^9* deceased emperor, was chosen by the army to suc- 
"• ceed him; and he, to strengthen his authority, 
united with him in command, his two sons, Carinus and Nu- 
inerian ; the former of whom was as much sullied by his vices, 
as the latter was remarkable for his virtues, modesty,, and 
courage. 

Carus was, shortly after his exaltation, struck dead, by Hght- 
ning, in his tent, with many others that were around him. 

Numerian, the younger son, who accompanied his father in 
this expedition, was inconsolable for his death, and brought so 
severe a disorder upon his eyes, by weeping, that he was obliged 
to be carried along with the army, shut up in a close litter. 
The pecuharity of his situation, after some time, excited the 
ambition of Asper, his father-in-law; who supposed that he 
could now, without any great danger, aim at the empire him- 
ejf. He therefore hired a mercenary villain to murder the 
emperor, in his litter; and the better to conceal the fact, gave 
out that he was still alive, but unable to endure the light. The 
offensiveness, however, of its smell, at length discovered the 
treachery, and excited a universal uproar throughout the army. 
In the midst of these tumults, Dioclesian, one of the most noted 

T 2 



222 HISTOKY OF ROME:. 

commanders of his time, was chosen emperor, and, with his 
own hand, slew Asper ; having thus, as it is said, fulfilled a 
prophecy, which predicted, that Dioclesian should be emperof 
after he had slain a Boar.* 

Carinus, the remaining son, did not long survive his father 
and brother. 

TT r 1 0^7 Dioclesian (classically Diocletianus) was a per- 
/ Ti oQ/i * ^^" ^^ mean birth : supposed, according to some, 
' to have been the son of a scrivener; and, accord- 
ing to others, of a slave. He received his name from Dioclea, 
the town in which he was born, and Was about forty years old 
when he was elected to the empire. He owed his exaltation 
entirely to his merit ; having passed through all the gradations 
of office, with sagacity, courage, and success. 

At this time, the northern hive, as it was called, poured down 
their swarms of barbarians upon the Roman empire. Always 
at war with the Romans, they issued when the armies that 
were stationed to repress their invasions, were called away; 
and upon their return, they as suddenly withdrew, into their 
cold and barren retreats, inaccessible to all but themselves. 
In this manner, the Scythians, Goths, Sarmatians, Alani, 
Carsii, and Quadi, came down, in incredible numbers ; whilst 
every defeat seemed only to increase their strength and per- 
severance. 

After gaining many victories over these, and in the midst of 
his triumph, Dioclesian, and Maximian, his partner in the em- 
pire, surprised the world, by resigning their dignities on the 
same day ; and both retiring into private stations. In this con- 
tented manner, Dioclesian remained, until his death was hast- 
ened, as it is supposed, either by poison or madness. Hia 
reign continued twenty years, having been active and useful : 
his authority, which was tinctured with severity, was well 
adapted to the depraved state of morals at that time. 
IT r lO^T Upon the resignation of the two emperors, the 
/ n •^04* *^^ csesars whom they had before chosen, were 
* universally acknowledged as their successors^ 
These were, Constantius, who was called Chlorus, from the 
paleness of his complexion; being virtuous, valiant, and mer- 
ciful; and Galerius, who was brave, but brutal, incontinent, 
and cruel. As there was so great a disparity in their tempersi, 

* This piece of ancient wit is scarcely tenable, by any fair allowancB 
of a play on words ; Aper^ in Latin, signifying a BoaVy and Asper 
rottghy disagreeable* — KdUor^ 



HISTORY OF ROME. 22S 

they readily agreed, upon coming into full power, to divide the 
empire; Constantius being appointed to govern the western 
parts. 

The latter died in Britain; appointing his son Constantino 
his successor. Galerius was seized with a very extraordinary 
disorder, which baffled all the skill of his physicians ; and car- 
ried him off, after he had languished in torments for nearly tlie 
space of a year. 

U C 1064 Constantino, (properly cal}e<l Constantmus,) af- 
A* T) qi/t^irwards surnamed the Great, had at first some 
* competitors for the throne. Amongst the rest^ 
was Maxentius, who was at that time in possession of Rome, 
and a steadfast assertor of Paganism. It was in Constantino's 
march against that usurper, that we are assured he was con- 
verted to Christianity, by a very extraordinary appearance. 
One evening, it is pretended, the army being upon its march 
towards Rome, Constantine was occupied with various con- 
siderations, upon the fate of sublunary things, and the dangers 
of his approaching expedition: sensible of his own incapacity 
to succeed without divine assistance, he employed his medita- 
tions upon the opinions chiefly agitated amongst mankind, and 
sent up ejaculations to Heaven, to inspire him with wisdom to 
choose the path to pursue. It was then, as the sun was de- 
clining, that there suddenly appeared in the heavens, a pillar 
of light, in the form of a cross, with an inscription in Greeks 
signifying. In thisy overcome. So extraordinary an appearance 
did not fail to create astonishment, both in the emperor and hia 
whole army; who considered it as their various dispositions 
led them to believe. Those who were attached to Paganism, 
prompted by its auspices, pronounced it to be a most unlucky 
omen, portending the most unfortunate events : but it made n 
different impression on the emperor's mind ; who, as the ac^ 
count goes, was further encouraged by visions the same night* 
He, therefore, the day following, caused a royal standard to be 
made Hke that which he had seen in the heavens, and com- 
manded it to be carried before him in his wars, as an ensign of 
victory and celestial protection. After this, he consulted with 
several of the principal teachers of Christianity, and made a 
public avowal of that sacred persuasion. Constantine, having 
thus attached to his interest, his soldiers, who were mostly of 
the Christian religion, lost no time in entering Italy, with 
ninety-thousand foot, and eight-thousand hor^e ; and soon ap- 
proached almost to the very gates of Rome* Maxentius acj- 
Taneed from the city, with an army of one-hundred-aftd-sev^aty- 




224 HISTORY OF ROME. 

thousand foot,, and eighteen-thousand horse. Jh^ ^g^ 

Srus was drovined in his flight, by the breaking down of 
a bridt^e, as he attempted to cross the lyber. 

Constantine, having entered the c.ty, d-clmmed aU 0,e 
praises which the senate and people y^Ve^vL caused a 
Lcribina his success to a superior power, .^e «ven causea a 
rejiesentation of the cross which jt -« -d he ^a - J 
the heavens, to be placed at the right of all h.s statues, wiin 
tWs inscrTp on: " Under the influence of this victorious cross 
ConSSJe delivered the city fior^ the yol^y^ ^^^7^"^ 
nower and restored the senate and people of Kome to uieir 
S dent authority." He afterwards ordained that no criuiin 
should in future suff-er death by the cross; which had formerly 
been the usual way of punishing slaves -n-cted of cap^ 
fences. Edicts were soon after issued, declaring that tne 
cESuans should be eased from all their grievances, and .e- 
ceived into places of trust and authority. r^^^tantine 

Thinss continued in this state for «o™^ ^'^^^ ' ^°";j^," '"f 
contributin-x what was in his power to the interest of religion, 
and he revival of learning, which had long been upon the de- 
dine aid was almost wholly extinct throughout the Roman 
dominions. But in the midst of these assiduities the peace of 
theTmpirewas again disturbed, by the P/^P^'-ations of Max- 
min who governid in the East; and who, desirous of a tuU 
;"aSd ation'of power, marched against L'-'-; J'^ « very 
Sumerods army. In consequence of this J^P' ^^^'-ja^y "^J^. 
flicts a general engagement ensued, m which Maximm sune. 
ed a oti defeat: many of his troops were cut to F^-s, and 
those that survived submitted to ^he conqueror. Havnghov^ 
ever escaped the general carnage, he once more put himseU 
:rthe 3 of anoLr army, resdving to try the fortu- of the 
field- but his death prevented the design. As he died by a 
v^ y'ext"io dinary kind of madness, the Christians, of whom 
he was the declared enemy, did not fail to ascribe his end to a 
ZZ,nent from Heaven; but this was the age in which false 
iudgmentstd filse mi;acles, made up the bulk of Un.nstruc- 

'^CoiiSneand Licinius thus remaining -^bPf/X^ 
ners in the empire, all things promised a peaceable cont nu- 
ance of friendship and power. However, it was soon found, 
Et the same ambition which aimed after a part, would be con- 
tent with nothing less than the whole. Pagan writers ascnho 



HISTORY OF ROME. 225 

the rupture between these two potentates, to Constantine; 
whilst the Christians, on the other hand, impute it wholly to 
Licinius. Both sides exerted all their power to make opposi- 
tion; and, at the head of very formidable armies, they came 
to an engagement near Cybalis, in Pannonia. Constantine, 
previously to the battle, in the midst of his Christian bishops, 
begged the assistance of Heaven; whilst Licinius, with equal 
zeal, called upon the Pagan priests to intercede with the gods 
in his favour. The success was on the side of truth : Con- 
stantine, after an obstinate resistance, became victorious, took 
the enemy's camp, and, after some time, compelled Licinius to 
sue for a truce. But it was not of long continuance; and, soon 
afterwards, the war breaking out afresh, and the rivals coming 
once more to a general engagement, it proved decisive. Lici- 
nius was entirely defeated, and pursued by Constantine into 
Nicomedia, where he surrendered himself up to the victor, 
having first obtained an oath that his life should be spared, and 
that he should be permitted to pass the remainder of his days 
in retirement. This, however, Constantine shortly afterwards 
broke ; for, either fearing his designs, or finding him actually 
engaged in fresh conspiracies, he commanded him to be put 
to death, together with Martian, his general, who, some time 
before, had been created ca3sar. 

Constantine, being thus sole monarch of the empire, resolved 
to establish Christianity on so sure a basis, that no new revolu- 
tions could shake it. He commanded that in all the provinces 
of the empire, the orders of the bishops should be exactly 
obeyed. He called also a general council of these, in order 
to repress the heresies which had already crept into the church, 
particularly the. doctrines of A rius. To this convocation, there 
repaired about three-hundred and eighteen bishops, besides a 
multitude of presbyters and deacons, together with the emperor 
himself; all of whom, except about seventeen, concurred in 
condemning the tenets of Arius; and this heresiarch, with 
his associates, was banished into a remote part of the do- 
minions. 

Having thus restored universal tranquillity to the empire, he 
was not able to ward off calamities of a more domestic nature. 
As the wretched histories of this period are entirely at variance 
with each other, it is not easy to discover the motives which 
induced him to put his wife Fausta and his son Crispus to death. 
The most plausible account is this. Fausta, the empress, who 
was a woman of great beauty, but of extravagant desires, had 



226 HISTORY OF ROME. 

long though secretly, loved Crispus, Constantine's son by a 
foimer wife. She had tried every art to inspire this youth with 
a mutual passion; and, finding her more distant efforts inef- 
fectual, had even the confidence to make him an open con- 
fession of her desires. 

This produced an explanation, which was fatal to both. 
Crispus received her addresses with detestation, and she, to be 
revenged, accused him to the emperor. Constantino, fired at 
once with jealousy and rage, ordered him to die, without any 
hearing; nor did his innocence appear before it was too late 
for redress. The only reparation, therefore, that remained, 
was the putting of Fausta, the wicked instrument of his former 
cruelty, to death; she was accordingly executed, together with 
some others who had been accomplices in her treachery and 
falsehood. 

But it is supposed that all the services which Constantine 
rendered to the empire, were not equal to recompense the evil 
which it sustained by his transferring the seat of government 
from Rome to Byzantium. Whatever might have been the 
reasons which induced him to this undertaking; whether it was 
because he felt indignant at some affronts he had received at 
Rome; that he supposed Byzantium more in the centre of the 
empire ; or that he thought the eastern parts more required his 
presence, experience has shown that they were all weak and 
groundless. The empire had long before been in a most de- 
clining state ; but this, in a great measure, gave precipitation 
to i^ downfal. After this, it never resumed its former splen- 
dour; but, Hke a flower transplanted into a foreign clime, lan- 
guished by degrees, and at length sunk into nothing. 

His first design was to build a city, which he might make 
the capital of the world, and for this purpose, he made choice 
of Chalcedon in Asia Minor; but we are told, that, in laying 
out the ground plan, an eagle caught up the line, and flew with 
It over to Byzantium, on the opposite side of the Bosphorus. 
Here, therefore, it was thought expedient to fix the seat of em- 
pire ; and, indeed, nature seemed to have formed it with all the 
conveniences, and all the beauties, which might induce powe! 
to make it the seat of residence. It was situated on a plain 
which rose gently from the waters : it commanded the §trait 
which unites the Mediterranean with the Euxine sea, and was 
furnished with all the advantages which the most indulgent 
climate could bestow. This city, therefore, he beautified with 
the most magnificent edifices: he divided it into fourteen 



HISTORY OF ROME. 227 

n r 10^4. ^®g^^"S5 built a capitol, an amphitheatre, many 
A* "n ^SO* ^^^''^h^s, and other public works ; and, having 
* thus rendered it equal to the magnificence of his 
idea, he dedicated it, in a very solemn manner, to the God of 
Martyrs ; and, in about two years afterwards repaired thithei 
with hi-s whole court. Byzantium then received the name of 
Constantinopolis, and is now called, by us, Constantinople. 

The removal produced no immediate alteration in the gov- 
ernment of the empire : the inhabitants of Rome, though^th 
reluctance, submitted to the change ; nor was there, for two or 
three years, any disturbance in the state, until, at length, the 
Goths, finding that the Romans had withdrawn all their gar- 
risons along the Danube, renewed their inroads, and ravaged 
the country, with unexampled cruelty. Constantine, however, 
soon repressed their incursions, and so straitened them, that 
nearly one-hundred-thousand of their number perished by cold 
and hunger. 

Another great error ascribed to him is, the dividing of the 
empire amongst his sons. Constantine, the emperor's eldest 
son, governed in Gaul, and the western provinces; Constan- 
tius, his second, in Africa and Illyricum; and Constans, the 
youngest, in Italy. This division of the empire, still further 
contributed to its downfal. The united strength of the state 
being no longer brought to repress invasion, the barbarians 
fought with superior numbers, and conquered at last, though 
often defeated. 

Constantine was about sixty years old; and had reigned 
above thirty, when he found his health began to decline. His 
disorder, which was an ague, increasing, he went to Nico- 
media ; where, finding himself without hopes of a recovery, he 
caused himself to be baptized; and, having soon aflerwards 
TT r lOQO ^^^^^^^^ t^^ sacrament, he expired, after a 
A* "n SS7* iwemorable and active reign of almost thirty-two 
' years. 



j 



2^6 HISTORY OF ROME. 



CHAPTER XXT. 



Of the destruction of the Roman Empire, after the death of Con' 
stantine, and the events ichich hastened its catastrophe. 

From this dreary period, the recovery of the empire became 
desperate ; no wisdom could obviate its decline, no courage 
oppose the evils which surrounded it, on every side. Were we 
to enter into a detail concerning the characters of the princes 
of those times, it should be rather of the conquerors, not the 
conquered : of those Gothic chiefs, who led a more virtuous, 
and more courageous people, to the conquest of nations, cor- 
rupted by vice, and enervated by luxury. 

These barbarians were long unknown to the Romans, and 
for some time after their appearance, had been only incom- 
modious to them. But they had now become formidable, and 
arose in so great numbers, that the earth seemed to produce a 
new race of mankind, to complete the empire's destruction. 
They had been increasing in their hideous deserts, amidst 
regions frightful with eternal snows, and had, for a considerable 
time, only awaited the opportunity of coming down into a more 
favourable climate, xigainst such an enemy, no courage could 
avail, nor abilities be successful ; a victory only cut off numbers 
without a habitation or a name, soon to be succeeded by others, 
equally desperate and obscure. 

The emperors who had to contend with this people, were 
furnished neither with courage nor conduct to oppose them. 
Their residence in Asia seemed to enervate their manners, and 
produced a desire to be adored like the monarchs of the east. 
Sunk in softness, they showed themselves with less frequency 
to the soldiers : they became more indolent, fonder of domestic 
pleasures, and more abstracted from the empire. Constantius, 
who reigned thirty-eight years, was weak, timid, and unsuccess- 
ful ; governed by liis eunuchs and his wives, and unfit to prop 
the falling empire. Julian, his successor, surnamed the Apos- 
tate, upon account of his relapsing into Paganism, was, not- 
withstanding, a very good and very valiant prince. By his 
wisdom, conduct, and economy, he chased the barbarians, who 
had taken fifty towns upon the Rhine, out of their own settle- 
ments ; and his name was a terror to them during his reign, 
which lasted only two years. Jovian and Valentinian had 
virtue and strength sufficient to preserve the empire from inw 
mediately falling under its enemies. No prince saw the ne* 



IHSTORY OF ROME. 229 

eessity of restoring the ancient plan ot tne empire, more than 
Yalentinian : the former emperors had drained away all their 
frontier garrisons, merely to strengthen their own power at 
home ; but his whole life was employed in fortifying the banks 
of the Rhine, making levies, raising castles, placing troops in 
proper stations, and furnishing them with subsistence. But an 
event, which no human prudence could foresee, brought up a 
new enemy, to assist in the universal destruction. 

That tract of land which hes between the Palus Mseotis, the 
mountains of Caucasus, and the Caspian Sea, was inhabited 
by a numerous savage people, known by the name of Huns and 
Allanes. Their soil was fertile, and the inhabitants fond of 
robbery and spoil. As they imagined it impracticable to cross 
the Palus Mccotis, they were altogether unacquainted with the 
Romans ; and remained confined within the limits which their 
ignorance had assigned them, whilst the other nations plunder- 
ed with security. £t has been the opinion of some, that the 
slime brought down by the current of the Tanais, had, by de- 
grees, formed a kind of incrustation on the surface of the 
Cimmasrian Bosphorus, over which those people are supposed 
to have passed. Others relate, that two young Scythians, 
being in full pursuit of a heifer, the terrified creature swam 
over an arm of the sea, and the youths immediately following 
her, found themselves in a new world, on the opposite shore. 
On their return, they did not fail to relate the wonders of the 
strange lands and countries which they had discovered. In 
consequence of their information, an innumerable body of 
Huns passed those straits ; and, meeting first with the Goths, 
made that people fly before them. The Goths in consterna- 
tion, presented themselves on the banks of the Danube, and 
with a suppliant air, entreated the Romans to allow them a 
place of refuge. This they easily obtained, from Yalens ; who 
assigned them several portions of land,in Thrace, but left them 
destitute of all needful supphes. Stimulated, therefore, by 
hunger and resentment, they soon afterwards rose against 
their protectors ; and, in a dreadful engagement, fought near 
Adrianople, they destroyed Yalens himself, and the greater 
part of his army. ^ = 

It was in this manner, the Roman armies grew w^eaRer; so 
that the emperors, finding it difficult to raise levies in the prov- 
inces, were at last obliged to hire one body of barbarians to 
oppose another. This expedient had its use, in cases of imme- 
diate danger; but, when that was over, the Romans found it 
as difficult to rid themselves of their new alhes, as of their 

U 



230 HISTORY OF ROME. 

former enemies. Thus, the empire was not ruined by any par- 
ticular invasion, but sunk graduall}^ under the weight of several 
attacks, made upon it from every side. When the barbarians 
had wasted one province, they proceeded to another. Their 
devastations were at first Hmited to Thrace, Mysia, and Pan- 
nonia; but, when those countries were ruined, they destroyed 
Macedonia, Thessaly, and Greece, and afterwards expatriated 
to Noricum. The empire was in this manner continually 
shrinking; and Italy, at last, became the frontier of its own 
dominion. 

The valoiu and conduct of Theodosius, in some measure re- 
tarded the destruction which had begun in the time of Valens; 
but, upon his death, the enemy became irresistible. A large 
body of Goths had been called in, to aid the regular forces of 
the empire, under the command of Alaric, their king; but th« 
means used to stop the universal decline, proved the most 
mortal stab to its security. This Gothic prince, who is repre- 
sented as brave, impetuous, and enterprising, perceived the 
weakness of the state, and how little Arcadius and Honorius, 
the successors of Theodosius, were able to secure it. He 
was instigated still further, by the artifices of one Rufinus, who 
had designs upon the throne; and, at the head of his barbarous 
forces, declared war against his employers, and fought the 
armies of the empire for some years with various success. 
However, in proportion as his troops were cut off, he received 
new supplies, from his native forests; and, at length, putting 
his mighty designs in execution, he passed the Alps, and pour- 
ed down, like a torrent, amongst the fruitful valUes of Italy. 

This charming region had long been the seat of indolence 
and sensual delight: its fields were now turned into gardens 
of pleasure, which served only to enervate the possessors, from 
having once been a nursery of military strength, which furnish- 
ed soldiers for the conquest of mankind. The timid inhabit- 
ants, therefore, beheld with terror a dreadful enemy ravaging 
in the midst of their country ; whilst their wretched emperor, 
Honorius, then at Ravenna, still seemed resolved to keep up 
his dignity, and to refuse any accommod^ution. But the inhabit- 
ants of Rome felt the calamities of the times, with double aggra- 
vation. This great city, which had long sat as mistress of the 
world, now saw herself besieged by an army of fierce and 
terrible barbarians ; and, being crowded with inhabitants, she 
was reduced, by extremities of pestilence and famine, to a 
most deplorable condition. In this state of misery, the senate 
despatched their ambassadors to Alaric ; requesting him either 



HISTORY OF ROME. 231 

to grant them peace upon reasonable terms, or give them leave 
to fight with him in the open field. To this message, however^ 
the Gothic monarch only replied, with a burst of laughter, that 
*' thick grass was more easily cut, than thin ;" implying, that 
their troops, while cooped up within the narrow compass of tho 
city, would be more easily overcome, than when drawn out in 
order of battle. When they came to debate about a peace, he 
demanded all their riches, and all their slaves. When asked, 
what then he would leave them, he sternly replied : " Their 
hves." These were hard conditions, for a city so celebrated, 
to accept; but, compelled by the necessity of the times, she 
raised an immense treasure, both by taxation and stripping the 
heathen temples ; and thus, at length, bought off her fierce in- 
vaders. 

This was but a temporary removal of the calamity. Alaric, 
now finding that he might become master of Rome, whenever 
he thought proper, returned with his army, a short time after- 
wards ; pressed it more closely than before, and at last took 
TT r lifi^ ^^' ^^^^ whether by force or stratagem, is not 
A* D 410* ^S**®^^ amongst historians. Thus, that city, which 
* for ages had plundered the rest of the world, and 
enriched herself with the spoils of mankind, now felt, in turn, 
the sad reverse of fortujie, and suffered all that barbarity could 
inflict, or patience endure. The soldiers had llbert} to pillage 
all places, except the Christian churches; and, in the midst of 
this horrible desolation, so great was the reverence of the bar- 
barians for our holy religion, that the Pagan Romans found 
safety in applying to those of the Christian persuasion for pro- 
tection. This dreadful devastation continued for three days ; 
and unspeakable were the precious monuments, both of art and 
learning, which sunk under the fury of the conquerors. How- 
ever, there still remained innumerable traces of the city's for- 
mer greatness ; so that this capture seemed rather a correction, 
than a total overthrow. 

But the Gothic coaquerors of the west, though they had 
suffered Rome to survive its first capture, now found how easy 
it was to become masters of it, upon any other occasion. The 
extent of its walls, had, in fact, made it almost impracticable 
for the inhabitants to defend them; and, as ii: was situated on 
a plain, it might be stormed without much difficulty. Besides 
this, no succours were to be expected from without; for the 
number of the people was so extremely diminished, that the 
emperors were obliged to retire to Ravenna, a place so fortified 
by nature, that they would be safe without the assistance of aa 



232 HISTORY OF ROME. 

army. What Alaric, therefore, had spared, Genserie, king €>f 
the Vandals, not long afterwards, contributed to destroy ; his 
merciless soldiers, for fourteen days together, ravaged, with 
implacable fury, in the midst of that venerable place. Neither 
private dwellings, nor public buildings ; neither sex, nor age, 
nor religion, were the least protection, against their lust or 
avarice. 

The capital of the empire being thus ransacked several 
times, and Italy over-run by barbarous invaders, under various 
denominations, from the remotest skirts of Europe, the western 
emperors, for some time, continued to hold the title, without 
the power, of royalty. Honorius lived un^il he saw himself 
stripped of the greater part of his dominions : his capital taken 
by the Goths, the Huns in possession of Pannonia ; the Alani, 
Suevi, and Yandals, settled in Spain, and the Burgundians in 
Gaul; where the Goths eventually established themselves. 

After some time, the inhabitants of Rome also being aban- 
doned by their princes, feebly attempted to take the supreme 
power into their own hands. Armorica and Britain being for- 
saken, began to regulate themselves by their own laws. Thus, 
the power of the state was entirely broken ; and those who as- 
sumed the title of emperors, only encountered certain destruc- 
tion. At length, even the very name of emperor of the west 
expired, upon the abdication of Augustulus ; and Odoacer, 
general of the Heruli, assumed the title of king of all Italy. 
Such, was the end of this great empire; which had conquered 
mankind by its arms, and instructed the world by its wisdom ; 
which haa risen by temperance, and fell by luxury ; which had 
been estabhshed by a spirit of patriotism, and sunk into ruin, 
when the empire had become so extensive, that a Roman citizen 
was but an empty name. Its final dissolution happened about 
five-hundred-and-twenty-two years after the battle of Pharsaha; 
one-hundred-and-forty-six, after the removal of the imperial 
seat to Constantinople; and four-hundred-and-seventy-six, after 
the nativity of our Saviour. 



THE END. 



VOCABULARY 

Of Proper Names^ contained in this History, accentuated^ in 
oi'der to show their right pronunciation. 



A. 

Ac'tium, 

Adrian'' us, > 

A'drian, ) 

Agrigen^tum, 

Agrip^pa, 

Alar^ic, 

-EmiKius, 

Amu^lius, 

Andron^icus, 

-Enemas, 

Antoninus, 

Anto^nius, ) 

An'^tony, / 

Ap'^pius, 

Apu^lia, 

Arde^a, 

A'runs, 

AsMrubal, 

Augus^'tus, 

Aure''lius, 

Aure^lian, > 

Aurelian^us. ) 

B. 

Bru^tus, 
Byzan^tium 

C. 

Cae^sar, 

Calig^ula, 

Calphur'nia, 

CamiKlus, 

Capre^a, 



Cap^ua, 

CaracaKla, 

Cat^iline, ) 

Catili^'na, ) 

Ca'to, 

Cic^'ero, 

Claud^ius, 

Cleopa^'tra, 

Collati^nus, 

Com^'modas, 

Constanti^fie, 

Constan^tius, 

Cori^'ola^nus, 

Cur^'tius. 

D. 

Deceb^alus, 

Decern^ viri, 

Demos^thenes 

Denta^tus, 

Diocle^sian, 

Dru^sus, 

Duum^viri. 

E. 

Ege^ria, 
En^'nius. 



Fab^ius, 
Fabric^ius, 
Fescenni^na, 
Flamin^ius, 
Flav^ius, 
U 2 



( 234 ) 



Fu'rius. 

G. 

GaKba, 

Galiie^nus, 

Gale^rius, 

German^icus, 

Gordian^'us, 

Gracch^'us, 

Gratian^us. 

H. 

Han'nibal, 
Heliogaba'lus, 
Iler'cules, 
Hora^tii. 

I. 

Icil'ius. 

J. 

Jovian^u<#, 

Judse^'a, 

Jugur^tha, 

Julian^us, ) 

Ju^lian, i 

Jn^lius, 

Ju'piter. 

L. 

La3vi'nus, 

liabie^nus, 

Lar^gius, 

Len^tulus, 

Lep'idus, 

Liv'ia, 

IiOcus''ta, 

Ijongi^nus, 

LuciFla, 

Luteins, 

Lucre^tia, 

Lucul'lus, 

Lucu'mon, 

Luta^tius. 



M. 



Macri^nus, 

Mamerti^'ne 

Man^lius, 

Man^tua, 

MarceHus, 

Ma^rius, 

Masinis^'sa, 

Maxen^tius, 

Maxim^ian, 

Maximia^nus, J 

Max^imin, > 

Maximi^nus, ) 

Mecse^nas, 

Mene'^nius, 

MeteMus, 

MessalKna, 

Mithrida^tes, 

Muti^na, 

Mu^tius. 

N. 
Ne^ro, 
Ner^va, 
Nu^ma, 
Numid'ia, 
Nu^mitor. 

O. 

Octa'vius, 
Os^tia. 

P. 

Papyr^ius, 

Pauli^na, 

Peloponne^sus, 

Per^tinax, 

Petro^nius, 

Pharna^ces, 

Pharsa^ia, 

PhilipV, 

Planci^'na, 

Po-sen^na, 



( 235 ) 



Ptolemse^us, ) 
PtoKemy, J 
Pupie^nus. 

. 9-. 

QuintiHius. 

R. 

Raven^na, 

Reg^'ulus, 

Re^mus, 

Rom''ulus, 

Ru'bicon, 

Ru'tuli. 



Sagun^'tum, 

Sardin^ia, 

Scaevo^'la, 

Scip'^io, 

Seja^nus, 

Seleu^'cia, 

Semprc'nius, 

Sen'' eca, 



) 



Ser^vius, 
Sev^erus, 
Sy^'racuse. 

T. 

Ta^citus, 

Tan^aquil, 

Taren^tum, 

Tarpei^a, 

Tai/quin, 

Tarquin''ius, J 

Teren^tius, 

Tibe^rius, 

Torqua^tus. 

V. 

Valentin^ian, 

Vale^rian, 

Vale^rius, 

Vespa'^sian, 

TiteKlius. 

X. 

Xantip^'pus. 




■f 



RECOMMENDATIONS. 



GOLDSMITH'S HISTORY OF GREECE, improved by 
Grimshaw, with a Vocabulary of the Proper Names con- 
tained in the work, and the Prosodial Accents, in conformity 
with the Pronunciation of Lempriere — with Questions and 
a Key, as above. 

Although there are many worthless School Books, there are 
but few which are equally impure and inaccurate with the ori- 
ginal editions of Goldsmith's Histories, for the use of Schools. 
I congratulate both teachers and pupils, upon the appearance 
of Mr. Grimshaw's edition of the " History of Greece," which 
has been so completely expurgated, and otherwise corrected, 
as to give it the character of a new work, admirably adapted to 
the purpose for which it is intended. 

THOMAS P. JONES, 

Professor of JVTechanics in the Franhlin Institute 
of the State of Pennsylvania, and late Prin- 
cipal of the JVorth Carolina Female Academy. 
Philaddphia, Sept, 5, 1826. 

Mr. John Grigg. 

Dear Sir — Agreeably to your request I have examined, with 
attention, " Goldsmith's Greece, revised and corrected, and a 
vocabulary of proper names appended, with prosodial marks, 
to assist in their pronunciation, by William Grimshaw ;" and I 
feel a perfect freedom to say, that the correction of numerous 
grammatical and other errors, by Mr. Grimshaw, together with 
the rejection of many obscene and indelicate passages im- 
proper for the perusal of youth, gives this edition, in my 
opinion, a decided preference over th^ editions of that work 
heretofore in use. 

The Questions and Key, likewise supplied by Mr. Grim- 
shaw to accompany this edition, afford a facility for communi- 
cating instruction, which will be duly appreciated by every 
judicious teacher. 

I am, Sir, 

Yours truly. 

THOMAS T. SMILEY. 



3u0t JJublisJetr, antr for Sale 6|i 

JOHN GRIGG3 

No. 9, North Fourth Street ^ Philadelphia, 

AND rOR SALE BY BOOKSELLERS AND COUNTRY MERCHANTS GENERALLY 
IN THE SOUTHERN AND WESTERN STATES, 



TORREY'S PRIMER, or First Book for Children. 

TORREY'S SPELLING BOOK, or Second Book for Children. 

Those Teachers who are not altogether prejudiced in favour of Webster, will please exarairwi 
this work ; as numerous Preceptors, who have used it in their Schools, give it the preference 
over timt and others. 

TORREY'S PLEASING COMPANION FOR LITTLE GIRLS AND BOYS, blending 
Instruction with Amusement; being a Selection of Interesting Stories, Dialogues, Fables, and 
Poetry. Designed for the use of Primary Schools and Domestic Nurseries. 

Preferred generally to Murray's Introduction, and works of that class, by Teachers who have 
given it an examination. 

TORREY'S MORAL INSTRUCTOR, OR GUIDE TO VIRTUE.— Letters of decided 
approbation, from several of the most eminent statesmen and heads of colleges, academies and 
schools, might be added in favour of these books: but the compiler, in preference, earnestly 
requests that teachers, parents, merchants and others, will examine for themselves as soon as 
practicable ; and in proportion as this is done, he indulges the belief (from experience) that 
they will be generally introduced into schools and families throughout the United States; and 
that consequent to this, the intellectual and moral improvement and virtue of the present and 
future generations will be proportionably advanced. 

This and the preceding works have been generally introduced in schools and academies iii 

Elace of Murray's Reader, and other similar works of domestic and foreign origin. It has 
een the special endeavour of the compiler, besides adapting the lessons m his books progres- 
eively to the age and capacities of the learner, to combine entertainment with useful instruc- 
tion. He has inserted a considerable number of lessons, designed to impress the mind of the 
rising generation with a just abhorrence of the prevaihng custom of using ardent spirits, which 
is probably the most destructive and extensive moral and physical evil that ravages our 
Republic at the present time. 

" Dr. Torrey's works abound with admirable Lessons, in moral and physical knowledge, 
which the old as well as the young may read, with pleasure and profit. The best feelings of 
our nature are encouraged' and cultivated, the purest principles of morality are made plain 
and attractive to the youthful understanding, and every thing is explained with so much 
simplicity and perspicuity, that every reader may comprehend them." 

SMILEY'S ARITHMETICAL RULES AND TABLES FOR YOUNG BEGINNERS. 

This is the best M'ork of the kind now in print ; but Teachers are particularly requested to 
examine for themselves. 

SMILEY'S ARITHMETIC, or the New Federal Calculator, in dollars and cents. Th« 
work contains, among other important improremer.ts, Questions on the Rules and Theory of 
Arithmetic, which are considered by Teachers generally, very conducive to the improvement 
of the pupil. 

Although a prejudice exists among some Teachers in favour of the old works on Arithmetic, 
vet the very liberal patronage which this work has received, must be considered as decisive 
evidence of the great estimation in which it is held by most of the instructors of youth. 
Upwards of 50,000 copies have been printed and sold. The sums being altogether in dollars 
and cents, gives it a decided preference over any other Arithmetic in use. The most distin- 
guished Teachers of our city pronounce it superior to any other like work ; therefore tho 
publ<Jiher sincerely hopes this useful improvement will overcome the piejudice that maajt 



1 



2 JOHN GRIGG'S SCHOOL BOOKS. 

TeacherB have to introducing new works ; particularly those preceptors who wish to discharge 
their duty faithfully to parent and child. 

Among the numerous flattering testimonials of its superiority over any other now in use, is 
the following, from gentlemen who enjoy we]l-n>erited celebrity as instructors of youth in our 
city, as well as in the New England States. "Philadelphia, Sept. 18, 1829.— We have ex- 
amined with care and attention the ' ^w Federal Calculator, or Scholar's Assistant,' by 
Thomas T. Smiley ; and have no hesitation in pronouncing it an excellent Arithmetic. The 
arrangement is good, and has evidently resulted from the reflections of a practical and judi- 
cious Teacher ; the definitions and rules are expressed in clear and simple language, well 
adapted to the capacities of the young ; the questions are convenient for the purpose of ex- ' 
amination; the examples of a strictly practical character; and the booli on the whole ig 
admirably calculated for the use of schools and academies. John M. Brewer, John Frost, 
S. C. Walker." 
The editors of the New York Telegraph, speaking of Smiley's Arithmetic, observe, " We 
I do not hesitate to pronounce it an improvement upon every work of that kind previously 

before the public, and as such recommend its adoption in all our schools and academies." 

A KEY TO THE ABOVE ARITHMETIC; in which all the examples necessary for a 
Learner are wrought at large, and also Solutions given of all the various Rules. Designed 
principally to facilitate the labour of Teachers, and assist such as have not the opportunity of 
a Tutor's aid. By T. T. Srailey, Author of the New Federal Calculator, &c. &c. 

SMILEY'S EASY INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF GEOGRAPHY, on an 

improved plan ; compiled for the use of Schools, with a view to render the acquisition of 
Geographical Science easy and pleasant to the Student : accompanied by an Atlas, engraved 
under the superintendance of H. S. Tanner, Esq. and T. T. Smiley, improved to the present 
time; exhibiting the Elevation of Mountains, Length of Rivers, and Population of Cities, &c 
&c. from the best authorities. 

When we say this is the best Elementary Geography and Atlas in use, we only reiterate i}t& 
sentiments of many of the most distinguished teachers in our country. The work is particularly 
adapted for Schools and Academies, and Teachers who are anxious to promote one of the 
most useful and agreeable studies, will please give it an attentive examination. 

GRIMSHAW'S HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES. 

Also, Questions adapted to the above History; and a Key^ adapted to the duestions, for the 
use of Teachers, and Private Families. 

GRIMSHAW'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
j Also, Questions Sidapted to the above History; and a Key, adapted to the Q,ue8tions, for the 

' use of Teachers, and Private Families. 

GRIMSHAW'S IMPROVED EDITION OF GOLDSMITH'S HISTORY OF GREECE, 

! with a Vocabulary of the Proper Names contained in the work, and |;he Prosodial Accents, in 

conformity with the pronunciation of Lempriere. 

Also, Questions adapted to the above History; and a Key, adapted to the Q-uestions, for the 
use of Teachers, and Private Families. 

GRIMSHAW'S IMPROVED EDITION OF GOLDSMITH'S HISTORY i^ ROME, 

revised and corrected, and a Vocabulary of Proper Names appended, with Prosodial Marks 
to assist in their pronunciation. 

Also, Questions adapted to the above History; and a Key, adapted to the Questions, for the 
use of Teachers, and Private Families. 

The Editor of the North American Review, speaking of those Histories observes, that — 

" Among the Elementary Books of American History, we do not remember to have seen 
any one more deserving approbation, than 'Mr. Grimshaw's Hi* ory of the Unked States,' 
embracing the period from the first settlement of the Colonies, to the year 1821. It is a smaJ* 
volume, and a great deal of matter is brought into a narrow space; — but the Author Iia« 
pucceeded so well in the construction of his periods, and the arrangement of his materials, 
that perspicuity is rarely sacrificed to brevity. 

"The chain of narrative is skilfully preserved, and the Author's reflections are frequently 
&uoh as make the facts more impressive, and lead the youthful mind to observe causes aud 
consequences which might otherwise have been overlooked. As a School Book 'it may 
justly be recommended. 

" What has been said of this volume ^vill apply generally to his other historical works.— 
They are each nearly of the same size as the one just noticed, and designed for the same 
object, that is, the use of Classes in Schools. 

"The ' History of England, is an original composition; bu'f the Grecian and Roman Histo- 
ries are Goldsmith's, improved by Mr. Grimshaw, in which he has corrected the typegraphical 
errors, with which the later editions of Goldsmith's Abridgments so much abound ; and 
removed any grossness in language, which, in some few instances, rendered these valuable 
compends less useful in the Schools to which Youth of both sexes resort. He has also added 
1 Jl „rl.L a Vocabularv of proper names accentuated, in order to •how their rightprenunciation, wUidl 

W»lli'' to a valuable' appendage to the History. (J 1 O O 0»-b1 nA 



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